The Other Side of the Tracks
by Ichigatsu Yami Bara
Summary: Following the life of Emily, a supernatural-born hunter, as she travels alongside the Winchesters in search of John. After forging a sister-like bond with the brothers, Emily finds herself tied to their fate. And bound to their curse.  M for 'Just in case
1. Introduction

The Other Side of the Tracks

Introduction

Hello avid readers and slash-fic fans everywhere! I normally don't do introductions to my stories but I feel it is justified in this case. I genuinely love and enjoy Supernatural, the show of course. I don't own it, its characters, or its plot. Having said that, I truly think it's interesting and the characters I love to death. The relationships developed in Supernatural are intrinsically interesting to me primarily because they represent bonds that everyone the world over wishes they could share. The mythologies are awesome, the different methods shown throughout the show of dispatching the supernatural creatures, and the fact that the characters aren't invincible and actually take a beating from time to time (And they all die a lot. I mean, seriously! Dean has kicked it about 100 times, Sam about 5-8, Bobby even has his fair share!).

Having said the above, I hope these readers will understand that the development of my character, Emily, did not take place lightly. It's difficult to insert my character into the plot because the plot is generally very tight knit. I attempt to change very little of the storyline in respect to the brother but this is her story, not theirs. Otherwise it would be 'The Same Side of the Tracks'. The development of the character went through many phases as the seasons developed. In the way John was always a few steps ahead of the game, as is Emily. With more knowledge, insight, and experience, Emily represents a character that is primarily solitary, only existing in the brother's world for sporadic moments until later seasons.

I won't give any background to the character, since I sincerely hope that, despite how convoluted the history is, I can convey it all in a time-appropriate manner. However, it is pretty important that I mention that her name isn't ONLY Emily. Having lived for as long as she has, she has had a multitude of names, all of which she can recite and state their origin. If she is identified by a different name, it could only mean that she is under an alias, as she changes her names between human life spans.

Also crucial to this story, I want readers to enter with the knowledge that she is NOT a romantic partner for either of the brothers, acting as the kind of sister they never wanted. Following the episode layout, her separate hunts will still be described under the title of the episode. So long as there are Supernatural episodes, so will there be chapters about Emily. In later seasons, the end of season two particularly, she slowly becomes more involved, becoming a full-fledged member of the Winchester squad by season four. Until then, it will be a bit slow but, if you don't mind, bear with me. There simply aren't enough smartass, badass females out there.

Finally, I would like to say that I will take artistic liberties. Inserting new scenes and episodes as well as chronicling her activities in episodes where she isn't with the brothers. Welcome to the Emily Show! Pleasant readings!


	2. Pilot

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Pilot"

It was bizarre, hiding in the shadows, watching Dean enter his brother's home. Knowing it could not be helped, Emily did not intervene. How could she? It was not as though Dean or Sam knew her, nor was it like she was part of the family. In fact, she was more likely to get killed if she approached too soon. No, the time would be right eventually. And it was then that she would approach Dean. John had been gone far too long, had not been answering calls or going to the Roadhouse, though that was a long shot in and of itself. The Winchesters were not to be trifled with. But in that respect, neither was she. Emily slipped away as the lights flickered on, smiling slightly at the thought of the boys fighting in the dark confusion. She wondered about the poor girl Sam was seeing, Jennifer or Jessica or whatever her name was. Casting a long look back at the house, Emily strolled down the campus streets, awaiting the verdict from Sam, as to whether or not he would help Dean find John.

The friendship she had with John, she mused, was a funny story, and even somewhat ironic. In Mississippi, John and herself were drawn to a case: a little coven of witches were causing some problems for the locals. John was younger then, but still just as hard as he was now. The fact he let her live still surprised her to this day. Emily looked at the worn combat boots that covered her feet, tucking a lock of reddish-brown hair behind her ear. John was one hell of a hunter, saved her ass more than once. She could not believe he had been killed by demons or ghosts, nor could she believe he would just up and bail on a case. That just wasn't like him. When John discovered her identity at the coven, when she used her powers to protect him, he had nearly come after her. The twenty-something frowned at the notion. Yeah, sure, she was a witch, but he was something else entirely. "After all," Emily murmured, setting a small hand on her pale face. "I haven't aged in a few millennia." Being something born out of the supernatural wasn't easy, but unlike the witches she and John took care of, Emily was born into a world no one could quite understand. With the life age of the earth behind her, Emily knew what was what and what the score was. Unlike most witches, Emily's powers weren't from demons. She looked up as she saw the yellow flashing lights of the campus patrol car, a little golf cart that would probably only give you a bruise if it hit you. Nevertheless, Emily vanished, heading back to John's last known location: California.

Emily sat on the bed, looking at the details across the wall in John's room, flustered and exceptionally annoyed. It had been two days and, already, Dean and Sam had passed by the shady dive and did not think to look. But what annoyed her the most was how useless she had to be on this case. Damn gender specific cases. A woman in white would never target a single person, let alone a single female. What could she do to lead Dean, but especially Sam, to this motel? Sam was in a relationship, and exactly the type for the woman in white, a woman named Constance. Perhaps she would go to find out more from the ex-husband, look over their old residence. After all, ghosts were her speciality. Emily stood and looked at the wall once more closely, trying to iron out some information in her head. Why fear the Winchesters? If their dad didn't kill her, wasn't that a sign they should not. She huffed in annoyance, gently rubbing her right temple, a little human trait she picked up from those she encountered. She did not know what a headache felt like, nor did she know what it was like to dream. Sleep and human ailments were not the only two things that eluded her in her long life. She was mortal, in a way. She would die one day just as humans do but she just had the advantage of living for a good few millennia. Unnatural, she believed, but she wasn't about to end a life that was serving a greater good.

Turning to once again face the bed, Emily extended her hand, an iridescent white light flowing out of it, returning the room to its original 'cleanliness'. Emily knew she was not exactly the neatest individual in the world and somewhat paralleled John in that respect, so she would clean up after herself, wipe her scent and presence from the room. With a small gust of wind slightly disturbing the newspaper clippings on the walls, Emily vanished, travelling through space instantly. It was a feeling and sight she could not describe. It was time for the waiting game.

Emily watched from the base of the bridge, her hands in the pockets of her jeans. It was about damn time, but she was just impatient because these boys were pretty smart. She hid in the dark waiting for the inevitable appearance of the resident woman in white. Emily huffed, her breath forming a tiny puff of steam before dissipating quickly. A churning in her stomach indicated the soon to be supernatural events, her instincts honed after too many years of being on the job. She looked to the ledge, a lovely woman standing at the edge. "Constance..." she whispered quietly, the woman looking down at her before allowing herself to fall from the bridge, disappearing as the boys reached the edge. She didn't bother hiding, since they had to know her eventually. The car revved to life, drawing Emily's surprised gaze. "Oh damn." She whispered, watching the car speed forward; watching the boys run desperately. She ran to the edge of the bridge, teleporting up as both brother dove off the edge, Sam lingering. She stood before the speeding car and held up her hand, her eyes going white as her white light skimmed over and through the car, Constance releasing a weak scream as she was driven from Dean's car, the front bumper stopping right before touching her knees. Lowering her hand, Emily's eyes slowly reverted to the golden brown she had come to know. She looked to her left, seeing Sam staring at her. "Ok...Let me explain?"

Dean paced in front of her as she sat on the roof of the Impala, one slim leg crossed over the other. "Look, I know you think that, because I can make pretty, pretty lights come out of my appendages, I need to die but, we're kind of on the same side here. And I know you don't trust me—" "You're goddamn right! I am damn close to splitting you." Emily sighed and leaned back. If only Dean knew her age, or her power, maybe he wouldn't be so condescending. "Ok, Macho Man, I'm a friend of your dad's. He's missing, I want to find him. I've been killing all manner of supernatural creatures since before any of your...family was born." She had to stop herself from saying ancestors because, frankly, she didn't think they could stomach the truth quite yet. "My name, these days, is Emily, and you can call me Em. Give me a chance to show you I'm worth knowing, ok?" Dean's look made her smile; she was getting to him and wasn't even trying. "I guarantee, you let me in now or I'll just keep following you guys. One way, or another." Emily turned her head to look at Sam, smiling pleasantly at him as he chuckled at his brother's mannerisms. "I'll give you two sometime to discuss it." She hopped off the car and handed Dean the motel address, heading down the bridge in a casual walk. She hated teleporting in front of mortals, since every single time, the response was the same, hunters and non-hunters alike.

"Cops? Seriously?" Emily high-tailed it right behind Sam, tying up her hair as they fled. Sam's brown eyes looked her over. She wondered if he would be less suspicious or not over time. It wasn't her fault they were chased off a bridge by a ghost car. "Look, you do your thing with the ex husband and I'm going to go peek around at old obits and see if I can't find the burial ground. Sounds good?" she said, trying to take the edge off of him, feeling kind of bad for the tough situation. Still, he nodded and they split off in different directions.

"Sam!" Emily yelled, running out of the brush alongside Dean who was busy trying to shoot the ghost. She ran forward, reaching into her pocket, pulling out a salt vial. She broke the glass in her hand and threw it forward, making the ghost vanish. "She won't be gone long!" The words had barely left her mouth before Sam rocketed the car into the house, a bewildered expression setting on her lovely features. "Wow. Was that necessary?" she murmured, running forward with Dean. Just as Dean entered before her, Constance appeared, clearly very pissed. Emily had no time to react before Constance's hand collided with her chest, propelling her backwards at an alarming rate. Slamming into a tree, Emily felt the sickening cracking of her bones. She fell to the ground, conscious but in nasty shape. She looked up, unable to see any of the events unfolding in the house. Emily groaned slightly, using her undamaged arm to push herself up, her advanced healing clearly not fast enough. "What I wouldn't do for naturally, or unnaturally for that matter, occurring pain meds." She whispered, cracking her shoulder back into place, the pain burning white hot.

Emily watched the guys as they finally freed the car and drove up to her as she sat at the base of the tree, still looking battered but alive. "Aww, Dean. You remembered me..." she murmured, the handsome man emerging from the car to help her out. She watched Sam dash over from the other side of the car, helping to lift her. She winced but smiled anyway, her back causing her a lot of agony. "Careful boys. I'm delicate." She joked, wilfully sliding into the backseat of their car. "Like hell you are." Dean shot back in a playful manner, gently closing the door behind her. She huffed softly, wishing she could sleep off the pain. She wasn't that lucky, though. Instead, she just sat quietly as they returned Sam to Stanford.

Emily smiled as Sam departed, taking the passenger seat in the car. "It was great to meet you Sam. And good luck on your interview thing!" she said, waving pleasantly. Emily was a bit jealous of Sam, seeing how he had the option to live a life away from this constant hunt. Dean said his farewells, commenting on how good of a team they had made which, in reality, was true. Sam and Dean were polar opposites but, honestly, they worked great together. Dean pulled the car forward but, before they had even turned the corner, Emily felt her stomach start to tighten and flip painfully. At first, she thought that, maybe it was the chilli cheeseburger she had at the last stop. "Dean, turn around. Go back." She murmured, a sudden look of distress coming to her face. Surprisingly, without question, Dean turned the car around. "It's Sam! Go get him!" she said, her stomach twisting and turning so hard it hurt her to the point that she couldn't move. She watched Dean run inside, watched the flames spread inside, watched history repeat itself. Sam, it seemed, could not escape...

**Alright, so, its dry now. Emily's character doesn't get a lot of involvement during the first season. Think of her like Bobby but she appeared first and thus was in it more. A few chapters will be her hunting away from the guys because Supernatural is about family and the bond Sam and Dean share. She is not in love with, nor shall she ever be in love with, any of the Winchesters or their close relations. Keep reading and I guarantee it will be better as more is introduced. R&R 3 - Ichi**


	3. Wendigo

Supernatural

Other Side of the Tracks

"Wendigo"

Emily frowned at the map, lounging on the beige seats of the Impala in the back. "Woodlands. Awesome. Nothing I love more than searching through miles and miles of forest for stuff." She muttered unenthusiastically. Sam looked back at her and she raised her eyebrows, not knowing she may have accidentally offended him. She smiled vaguely and shrugged, "I'm just saying, why would John give up one job to disappear into the forest?" Sam faced the front again, Dean gazing at her in the rear-view. "It doesn't matter. If there's a chance he's here, we're looking around." It had been a tough time for everyone in the car. After losing Jess, Sam had become a man obsessed, focused only on killing the thing responsible for her death. He was inconsolable and he had nightmares but, in reality, what could a person say?

"It looks like there are 23 year cycles here. Look." Emily looked up at Sam. It didn't exactly take the trio a long time to figure out what was happening: It appeared that, every 23 years exactly, a group of people went missing in the woods. The number varied but the message was clear: Something evil was out there. "Sometimes I wish I could just look at a situation and say 'grizzly attack'. And not have a flood of terrifying beasts flowing through my mind." Emily looked from Sam to Dean. "Don't we all."

"Say again? The reception sucks up here. No, it ISN'T my phone." Emily was getting more and more frustrated with the woods as she waited for Dean and Sam to return from the survivor's house. She had poured over a lot of her memories and databases to assemble a list of what could be out there. Sadly, they had a time limit, since the sister, Haley seemed pretty dead set on going into the woods. She would never understand mortals and their need to put themselves in dangerous situations, even if someone they love is in the shit. Then again, Emily hadn't ever felt something like that so, in reality, she couldn't judge. "Look, the best guesses involve skin walkers, ok? But from what you've told me about the marks on the survivor and the video footage, we're looking for a humanoid. Skin walkers are primarily violent when in animal form. And they sure as hell can't unlock doors." Dean's voice came through the line, muffled by static. "Ok, I can't hear you but I'm going to grab some type of hiking gear for myself so I can go out tomorrow. See you later."

Man, this hunter was pissing her off. She wanted to shove him into a bear trap and leave him for bait at this point. Though, she can't blame him for his ignorance, since it wasn't really his fault but she could blame him for his insufferable arrogance. So you shot a bear from really far away. Congratulations, you killed a Care-Bear. Get over it. Still, she remained the silent one, listening hard for the presence of the creature. Her stomach wasn't responding in a particularly odd way so she was somewhat at ease. "How did you end up all the way out here?" Haley's words broke through her thoughts, forcing Emily to turn to see the girl at her side. "Oh, um, it's actually a funny story. I got in their car and now I'm here." She forced a smile and turned back to looking at the trees, noticing what could be claw marks, high up among the boughs. She frowned and looked forward, watching the back of Roy's head. "Honestly, there's something in the woods and the world would probably be better if we took it out, you know? I hate to sound callous or anti-animal but sometimes, things just shouldn't exist."

As the group came to the campsite, Emily's stomach started flip-flopping and she felt as though she was being touched by some dark presence, the hairs on her neck standing on end. Like she hadn't seen blood before, she moved closer to inspect, observing the claw marks that had rendered these tents into shreds of fabric. They were almost finger-like in appearance. Then, the screaming started, causing Emily's heart to freeze for the briefest of moments. In a moment, she was up and running towards the source with Roy and Dean leading the way. But, suddenly, the voice stopped and, as everyone stopped still to listen again, Emily realized her mistake, goose bumps skidding across her flesh. "We shouldn't have left camp." She whispered, the younger brother, Ben, looking at her oddly before Sam demanded they return to camp.

"Not like my cell phone worked anyway..." she whispered, kicking some of the loose soil gently. Of course the creature took away their stuff but, more and more, it was looking like Emily had never encountered something like this before. Sam motioned to Dean, asking to speak to him privately, extending the invitation to Emily with a nod. "Wendigo? Huh. Never thought I'd see one of these. I heard they were wiped out." Emily muttered, looking at the pages in John's book. From a mortal perspective, she could really see the concern and, in all honesty, she didn't know how effective any of her powers would be. "So, no guns, knives, or pretty much anything else we brought along. And I'm guessing throwing rocks at it won't work." When Dean and Sam looked at her as if exhausted, she realized she should stop trying to lighten the mood. It was a natural response to a tense situation. "Ok, no jokes. I think I threw a little can of pressurized gas into the bag. If one of you has a lighter, we have a flamethrower." She suggested, smiling.

Emily held her jacket close, regretting ever leaving her tropical paradise to look for John. Sticking around the equator had been awesome and yielded a lot of interesting jobs like shifters and rougarous and all kinds of fun stuff. Well, not fun but definitely interesting. It was cold in the Midwest at night. She shuddered softly, her thin body hunched over as she sat on the far side of the 'Magic Circle'. Some time alone with her thoughts wouldn't hurt, seeing how this thing was going to hunt them tonight, one way or another. She stroked a pale hand through her auburn hair, looking at the ground. _'Where did you go John, and why did you vanish?'_ It was the first question on the trio's mind but it would drive her nuts to think about it. In fact, she couldn't even remember why she came to find John in the first place. Help with a job, yeah, but she completed the job in Florida before looking for Dean and this wasn't her family. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at Sam and Dean talking. Alright, so they weren't the Brady's but this was the closest she'd been to a family in forever.

Emily's stomach flip-flopped slightly, the horrible screaming of a man starting up again. Everyone but her got to their feet but nobody ran out of the circle. "Don't get too excited. It's just trying to lure you out." She said, loud enough for everyone to hear. The sound of a vicious attack on the man occurred just before the creature closed in on them, searching the perimeter for a weak spot. She had made the protective incantations herself. It wouldn't be able to grab anyone toni—Emily's thoughts were abruptly cut off as Roy started unloading rounds into the forest, one of them, from the sounds of it, actually hitting the Wendigo. "Like hell." She whispered, getting to her feet as Roy ran off. She put her arm in front of Haley and Ben, stopping them from following as the brothers ran out after Roy, who was guaranteed to die for his little shooting spree.

Emily looked down at the trail of M&Ms Dean left behind after the creature snagged him. "Awesome." She murmured, standing. "We have no weapons to take this thing out with and it's got Dean. Granted, he isn't a master strategist but it wouldn't hurt." She said to Sam, looking up at him. He hated how dwarfed both brothers made her feel. At a measly 5'6", she wasn't exactly the most imposing lady. The brunette looked at Ben sympathetically and then back to the forest. "Well, we better haul ass. Something is hunting us so we just have to make sure we finish hunting it before." With no weapons and no plan, Emily moved forward, not actually caring if she was followed. All she wanted to do was save Dean and the girl, perhaps even the brother and his friends if she could manage. The important thing was to get everyone out of the woods and, if they couldn't kill it, at least force it into early hibernation and then return prepared. But, with the boys, it was never that easy.

Emily stood before the condemned entrance to the mine, her eyes scanning the surrounding rocks. They did not stand a chance in there: closed quarters, dim lights...Sheesh! Emily was supernatural but she wasn't a god damn cat. Despite this, she watched Sam lead Ben through the boards that covered the entrance, forcing a muffled sigh from her. If they were lucky, they would make it out of the cave alive. But, with the Winchesters, when was any luck good? Slipping through the boards easily, Emily followed in the rear, moving backwards as she pulled out a pair of Kukri from their sheaths on her belt. They wouldn't do much but at least she had a method of defence. Suddenly, she was very aware of the rubbing sound her dark blue jeans made as they scratched together. More and more, her knee high boots clacked loudly against the rocks, her fake leather jacket rubbed noisily against itself. Her heartbeat alone was deafening, her hunter instinct overwhelming her senses, making them overly aware of her surroundings. Every little hair on her body was on edge as she made her way, slowly but surely, behind Sam and Ben.

Luckily, in a fashion, Sam's inherent Winchester luck reared its ugly head, sending both himself and Ben into a hole. Had the human boy not grabbed onto her jacket as he fell, she wouldn't have fallen in as well. She grunted as her spine landed directly on a rock, causing an extremely painful and immobilizing injury. She grumbled incoherently, rolling onto her side. It only took a few moments but she was back on her feet faster than Sam or Ben. "Dean!" she hissed, muting herself as much as she could. She ran over to him, looking up at the ropes holding them, suddenly noticing that her Kukri were missing. As she turned back to look for them, Ben ran to Haley as Sam reached Dean, trying to shake them awake. Spotting one of her blades on the ground, she picked it up, tucking it into its sheath behind her back. After looking for a few moments as Haley and Dean were released, Emily found her blade, their stolen packs, and Haley's older brother. On a lesser note, she also found what appeared to be remains of his friends. She turned away quickly as Haley managed to get him awake, rummaging through her backpack for what she needed, grabbing her cell phone, which now had a lovely, aesthetically pleasing crack across the screen, a gun with intricate engravings on the grip, and a chocolate bar because, even though she didn't have to eat, she mainly loved humans for synthesizing chocolate. It was soooooo goooooood!

Despite her mini-mental orgasm at the thought of eating her chocolate bar, Emily's attention was drawn to some deep bellowing coming from deeper in the cave. She stood quickly, holding her extra kukri as she motioned for Dean and Sam to hurry and find a way out. She followed behind, trying to come up with ways of masking her scent from the wendigo. But, frankly, there wasn't really a method she could think of that utilized any of the objects she had on her. Not even sacrificing her delicious chocolate bar would help. Finally, the group of six reached a fork, both ways looking equally unappealing in terms of survival. Then, Dean turned to her, his face showing that he was about to suggest an enlightened idea. "Ok so how do we get out of here?" Or the low light and general unpleasantness of her surroundings had completely fooled her. "What the hell? How would I know?" she growled, smacking him on the arm with her free hand. Despite the fact that Dean seemed genuinely hurt by her hit, she turned away, her eyes covering their rear. "It's getting closer so, you know, if either of you master strategists want to get us out of here yesterday, that would be great." Hypocritical, yes, but Emily hadn't survived this many millennia by not being a survivalist at heart.

Emily moved to join them more so, looking at the flare guns the boys were suddenly waving around, kind of wondering where those had come from but deciding it would be too silly to ask. After all, she was too busy fantasizing about her chocolate bar. Suddenly, Dean head off in one direction leaving Sam, her, and the three civilians. She groaned, hating being the babysitter, and moved in front of Tommy, motioning for Sam and Haley to release him. She crouched slightly and pulled the 6'2" man onto her back, lifting him in a piggy back position. Besides a few bewildering grumbles from him, she received little resistance. "Well, are you just going to stare at me or go!" she growled at Sam, following as he ran off with all of them in tow. Picking up Tommy wasn't the best idea, seeing as she couldn't defend the flank with a human on her back. Well, she could...but not particularly well. But it was faster and the poor human had been through hell. Everyone deserves ten seconds to relax. "It's going to be ok, Tommy. Just rest for a second. I'll take care of you; we'll get out of here together." She whispered, moving just as quickly as the others. "You know, for a tiny woman, you are strong." Emily could only smile at his delirious statement of the obvious, shaking her head.

It wasn't long before Sam separated as well, leaving her with one injured, barely conscious human and his two terrified siblings. Despite this, she began to lead the way, hearing Sam's flare go off; she slowed as the Winchester boy caught up, lowering Tommy into Sam's arms. "Go! Go!" she yelled, pushing him to go on. She inhaled deeply, hearing the fairly slow footsteps of the predator. She opened her eyes, the darkness concealing the swirling lavender in her normally brown eyes. Adopting an open archery stance, Emily produced an ivory long bow, intricately laced with glowing lavender lines, and a white arrow. In the moments it took to summon this weapon, Emily aimed as the creature dashed at her and shot it right in the center of its chest. It fled with the wound, the arrow and bow disappearing almost as soon as it had been summoned. Emily gasped softly, suddenly utterly exhausted from the energy expenditure. She turned weakly and began to run after Sam and the others. She held it back, but not for long, and Dean hadn't made his existence known for too long.

Weakly making her way through criss-crossing tunnels, she finally found the group, catching up just in time to see that a dead end was ahead. As she turned to lead them back the way they came, she saw it. Her heart had never pumped faster in her life than when she saw the hideous, and extremely infuriated, face of the Wendigo. Emily felt Sam move ahead of her, blocking her and the humans with his body. She was too weak to do much of anything, confused as to why her little bow and arrow trick wiped her so entirely. She didn't want to get slashed to ribbons and, to her undeniable relief, Dean appeared and torched the bastard with the other flare gun.

"Tommy wanted to talk to you." Dean muttered to Emily who had been leaning against the Impala for the last 20 minutes completely mute, deep in thought. She made her way over to the ambulance, overhearing Ben's retelling of their escape from that crazed grizzly. Just as the paramedic left the vehicle, Emily climbed up, tucking her long chocolate-brown hair behind her ear. "Hey there. Feeling ok?" she whispered, leaning over him. He was beat up pretty bad, inside and out but he smiled at her nonetheless. "I think I'm still just trying to make sense of it all. Is this what you do, for real?" he asked, earning a slight smile and a nod. "I wish you didn't have to do this." Emily shook her head, gently grasping his hand. "If I didn't do this, how would I meet attractive men like yourself?" she joked, smiling as Tommy allowed himself a quick laugh. For a few moments, they sat in silence before she leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth, releasing his hand. "Get better soon, yeah? And don't go camping for a little while." Tommy's smile was enough prompting to hop from the ambulance, quickly giving Haley a hug before she hopped in.

"Am I sensing a little bit of romance for our little Emily?" Dean murmured as she headed back over, Sam joining them and looking at her expectantly. "Well, call me that again and I will injure you." She said, pulling out a small switch blade from god-knows-where. Dean faked a threatened expression as Sam moved away towards the other side of the Impala. "Seriously though, why don't you settle down with someone like that? Get out of this life while you can." Dean asked as she opened the rear door. Emily frowned and looked past Dean to the departing ambulance, then to the ground. "I could never love a human, Dean. I have lived for so long, and that doesn't look to be changing any time soon. I just can't give my heart to someone who is guaranteed to leave so soon." She paused, deeply contemplating her next words. "Are you trying to tell me the only thing you could love is like something we hunt?" Den interjected, Emily looking up at him soulfully. She looked over at Sam, who looked very empathetic. She shoved the rear door shut, moving away from the car. "Let's face it Dean. I am something you hunt."


	4. Dead in the Water

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Dead in the Water"

Emily looked down at her cell phone, pressing a key to make the back screen light up revealing five new voice messages were waiting for her. The brunette sighed quietly, tossing the small electronic device back onto the bed of her motel room. Her silky brown hair was tied into a loose bun at the back of her head and she wore only a grey tank top and a pair of torn up black jeans. Surprisingly, she found herself feeling bad for leaving the brothers in the dark. After fighting that wendigo in Colorado, she had just kind of disappeared and the brothers were showing a surprisingly large amount of concern for her. There had been other messages before those, where Dean had apologized if he had offended her, surprising her each time since he seemed to have a damn good idea of how to talk to an upset woman. She, however, was not upset but more concerned. Sure, his comment had been hurtful but that was for the two seconds she processed it. In reality, her experience in the cave had led her to frightening repeats of her history, driving her to flee to Washington and dive right into another case.

She quickly moved across the room, sitting down at the table where a laptop sat open with books surrounding it. She clicked open a page to reveal her foe, Zahhāk, a lesser known evil figure from Ancient Persia. What had led this ancient evil to Washington, she didn't know, but she would kill him...It? She huffed and leaned back in her chair, slipping one hand over her hair. Most of the mythology said that Zahhāk was defeated, or at least imprisoned, by a man who was essentially a warrior of the light. It would be more difficult this time around, seeing how, after so many years, this evil sorcerer learned new tricks. He has divided himself into three different people, all identical but never in close proximity. Luckily, she located his 'base of operations' as it were, and, if her sources were right, all she had to destroy was an amulet which would summon all three of them and force them to recombine. Then, three ox bones, forming a triangle, around his heart, the only thing in his body that there is only one of. "Planning it out in words is easy enough but man am I going to get hurt. The man is, like, made of deadly animals."

Emily laid in bed in her dark motel room, not sleeping of course but wishing she could. The few weeks spent with the Winchesters had begun to change her, faster than it ever had before. She frowned and rolled onto her side, holding a pillow against her. The more time she spent with humans, the more mortal she became. More emotions, more sleeping, more eating, more lust, more of everything. Everything became mandatory and even her aging process sped up to that of a normal human, causing her more problems than she wanted to deal with. She closed her eyes tightly, now faced with the most difficult of choices: should she stay with the Winchesters and allow herself to age and succumb to human urges or should she pursue John alone and retain all of the aspects, both good and bad, of her near-immortality? This question had faced her so many times and, every time, she chose humans because, despite her solitary lifestyle, she loved being around humans and all the emotions she assimilated, even the bad ones, were worth it. Sure, she had been hurt in the past and yes, bad things happened to good people, but she was, inevitably, optimistic. And, though she hated to admit it, the brothers had grown on her. Like a fungus, really.

Emily snapped out of her funk as her phone rang loudly, filling the room with noise and light, forcing her to move and grab it from the dresser. "Hello?" she muttered into the phone, listening on the other end for a response. She waited for a few moments, hearing shuffling but no response. "Hello?" She was nearly cut off mid sentence. "Emily, when are you coming back?" She smiled at Sam's voice and sat up, leaving her comfort pillow behind her. "Hello to you too Sam." She murmured, looking at the digital clock, its red numbers reading 2.23a. "Look, I'm still trying to figure out if hunting with you boys is in my best interest. I mean, I got my ass kicked more times over the last month and change I was with you two than in the last year." She said, smiling. "Why? Is Dean particularly unbearable?" Sam exasperated sigh made her chuckle quietly. "Where are you guys at?" Sam and Emily rattled on about the case they were on and, while she described her case, she never disclosed her location. "Well, unless the black lagoon creature is making a comeback, I'd say you have an elemental spirit." She awaited Sam's response for what seemed like a long time. "Elemental spirit?" Emily shook her head, silently willing herself not to comment. _'Sam has been out of the game a long time; John was experienced but he hasn't seen it all; elemental spirits are rare'_ her mind went off on reasons not to tease Sam. "Well, odds are you're looking for a death that happened in the lake. An elemental spirit is generally stronger than regular spirits but can still be put down the same way. Their power over the element in which they died is extremely dangerous but they usually are very specific in their unfinished business and vengeance." Emily hadn't actually encountered an elemental spirit in a long time but remembered facing a fire spirit once. Let's just say there are parts on her legs that just don't grow hair anymore. "Well, I have to run. Good luck to you." She ended the call promptly and frowned, putting the cell on the drawer and grabbing the remote. Zahhāk was too strong at night to face so she would just have to entertain herself. She flicked on the power button of the television, the room lighting up. _"Welcome to Casa Erotica"_

Emily walked along the streets, carefully adjusting her red and silver aviators while slowly making her way through the bustling foot-traffic of the city into the lesser-known section. Industrial buildings and old run down factories were surprisingly versatile. "Yeah, you can skip school and come smoke pot or, you know, set up a demonic altar that splits one of the evilest beings on the planet into more evil things." She quietly mused. Emily reached behind her and slipped her map out, following the route she designed to a T. Her boots clicked against the broken concrete of the long abandoned road and led her straight to her destination. She slipped the map back behind her and pushed her sunglasses up, pushing her hair back as well. She wasn't prejudice against any supernatural creatures based on their heritage but the goddamn Persians knew how to protect their important things. The building was visibly riddled with sigils and spells designed to alert Zahhāk of her existence. Touching the door would be a big red flag and, depending on what spells he had on the inside, teleporting could be her last action. "Craig Miller..." she whispered, pulling one of the many obits from her pocket. "Died shortly after breaking into an abandoned factory of a potent venom, previously believed to be extinct. Police found no trace of the animal blahblahblah." Emily slipped the paper back into her pocket and headed around the building, looking for his point of entry. A lovely piece of metal wall was pulled up, beckoning her to enter and end this.

Emily discreetly hid her jacket and supplies, wearing a black band t-shirt and a bracer on her left arm. Considering how many altars she had to find over the years, Zahhāk didn't really seem to put much effort into hiding it. But, in reality, who would go after a creature with snakes growing out of his shoulders. No one sane, anyways. She lifted the small blue amulet up, the sharp edges forming a perfect triangle with a small vial at the center. She gripped it tight in her hand, silently preparing herself before leaning down and lifting her compact bow off the ground. Moving behind a wall on the opposite side of the room as her supplies, Emily threw the amulet at the ground in front of the altar, shattering the thin glass. Her eyes slid across her selected arrow, hand crafted from ox bone, as she stopped breathing, the change in air pressure telling her that a whole bunch of evil was about to be coming her way. Moments passed, like an eternity, until one thump after another landed in the building. Just as she mused about how scared any mortals who saw his figures vanish must be, Zahhāk released a terrifying roar, the undeniable sound of hissing filling her ears. Butterflies filled her stomach so she tightened her abs and flipped around the wall, shooting an ox arrow straight into the inhuman flesh above his heart. He was more terrifying than the legends had said, with rotting flesh and a rancid stench; she had never seen or smelled worse.

With a deafening roar of pain, Zahhāk stumbled backwards before his inhuman red eyes settled on her, identifying his attacker. Emily took a running start, pulling out another ox-bone arrow and trying to set it in place to fire. She looked up as he came at her, pushing herself off the ground and drop kicking the monstrosity in the chest, pushing the arrow in further and knocking him on his ass. She moved over him as the poison that ox bone was to him temporarily immobilized him. "Ox bone, bitch." She murmured, shooting the second one in at close range, drawing another roar. She tossed her bow away and pulled out the other arrow, dropping down on him and plunging the third in. He screamed, hard and loud, as the area she isolated with the bone melted into an empty hole, effectively killing Zahhāk. Adrenaline pumping hard, Emily released the end of the arrow, leaning back, ignoring the stench. "Looks like you won't be feeding innocent people's brains to your snakes anymore." She whispered, standing slowly. Sharp movement caught her eye and she just barely got her arm in front of her face as the ten inch head of one of his snakes made a last ditch effort to avenge itself. Emily cried out as its teeth sank into her flesh, the black venom seeping down her arm as the snake injected as much as it could. Pulling out a miniature machete, Emily rendered the head of the snake from the body as the melting proceeded to engulf what was left of the Persian Evil Lord. Emily fell to the ground, her left arm completely paralyzed and turning black as she pulled herself towards her supplies. Her body, for once, couldn't take the poison. Typically, her immune system would have kicked in and fought it off immediately but this stuff was nigh unbeatable. "That's why you chose the bow you stupid piece-a crap!" she yelled at herself, dragging and pushing herself. Then, there it was; a sharp piercing pain overloaded her chest in agonizing sensation, forcing her to stop. Desperately, she reached out, pulling her jacket off her bag and grabbing the small string that dangled from the straps. Her breathing was getting exceptionally laboured.

Emily awoke with a start, sitting in a private room in a hospital, wearing a flimsy paper gown with a large bandage on her left arm. "Well those boys will sure be relieved your ok." Emily looked up at the nurse speaking to her with a completely neutral expression, the overly cheery woman just smiling obliviously. "You were lucky they were playing hooky." Emily looked around, moving to get out of bed when a pain came from her thigh. She hiked the dress up and saw a large injection mark. A soft sigh escaped Emily's lips as she silently thanked whoever was out there that she got the needle in time. "They found you sprawled in one of those factories with a needle in your hand. Now, the police want to have a word with you due to the fact that you had venom and the anti-serum injected into you. Due to the nature of the venom, they're kind of curious as to what is going on." The brunette looked to the nurse, smiling. "You'll hold them off for a bit won't you?" The nurse shared a small smile with her and nodded empathetically. "Well, you should be right as rain in a day or two. Your immunity really kicked up after the first hour after you were admitted. No serious damage." Just before the nurse left the room, Emily spoke up suddenly. "What about my things?" The woman looked back at her and nodded. "Well, your clothes are under your bed. Other than that, the police haven't mentioned finding anything else." Emily was up and out of bed the second the red-haired nurse left the room, pulling on her clothes almost frantically. She zipped up her jeans, threw on her bra, slipped into her t-shirt and was out the window in 30 seconds flat.

Emily gently kicked the head of the snake around, wondering where her things had gone. They weren't here and, according to Davis, the police didn't have anything. Thank god for Davis, the only legitimate connection she had with a police department. She would send him a fruit basket or something, someday. "You killed it, didn't you?" Emily turned around to see two boys who looked vaguely familiar. "Sorry? I don't know what you mean..." Emily kind of stopped herself as the teens held up her possessions, including her bow. She smiled slightly and ducked her head a bit. "I can only guess you knew Craig Miller." She murmured, taking a few steps closer. "I was the one that dared him to come in here a few nights ago." She looked at the taller one who believed himself to be solely guilty for Craig's death. "It's probably best if you guys forget about what happened here." Emily slipped her jacket into her backpack and threw it over her shoulder, making her bow even smaller and slipping it into the side pocket. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save your friend. But because you guys saved me, maybe I can protect other people's friends and loved ones." She set a hand on the taller boy's shoulder and smiled caringly at the other. "Just, try to forget what you've seen. Go make a difference in the world." Emily moved forward and stopped just at the door as she heard one yell for her, looking back. "Thank you for all you've done but..." he paused and smiled at his friend. "I hope I don't have to see you again."

Well that was the story of Emily's life tied up in a neat little bow, she thought to herself, smiling. She had to get out of Washington but, as damaged as she was, she couldn't exactly teleport herself. Looks like she would be hitching rides to see the brothers, which was, admittedly, better that taking a bus. As if on cue, her phone beeped in her backpack, forcing her to stop and check what it was. "Another voice message, Unknown Caller, how mysterious." Emily stopped and became very serious as she heard rustling on the other end of the phone, like someone was running with their phone in their pocket. Suddenly there was a sharp growl and a scream. For the next few moments, Emily listened to someone getting torn apart.


	5. Phantom Traveller

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Phantom Traveller"

"Suzanne? Are you sure Ellen? It doesn't make any sense at all." Emily frowned, holding her phone up to her ear. "Well, you said werewolf and you tracked the call to Detroit. Suzie was found dead three nights ago, heart missing and scratched to pieces." Emily shuddered softly, not expressing her pain verbally. "But that isn't even the biggest concern. I heard John was somewhere in Fort Wayne, Indiana." The brunette's eyes widened, her small hand gripping the steering wheel of the stolen Nissan tightly. "How do you always manage to get these tips?" she asked out of shock, surprised. "Loose lips sink ships, honey. Now, I know you want to find John and whatever killed Suzie. If you need any help, call me up." The girl sighed and nodded to herself. "I will Ellen. Say hey to Jo for me. I'll drop in someday soon." Emily clicked her phone shut, now faced with a dilemma. If she didn't go directly to Fort Wayne, she risked losing John again. Plus, even if the tip wasn't a good one, she could check out the validity of Ellen's sources, saving herself, other hunters, and Ellen a whole mess of trouble.

Emily sighed softly and pulled out her phone once more, simply clicking the '4' button. The ringing on the other line remained constant in her ear for about three rings, ensuring she had, in fact, called. Finally, the soft female voice picked up. "Tonya?" she asked, smiling to herself. The brunette she remembered so vividly was nothing more than a pixie, short and slight. The voice on the other line hesitated but then returned with a gleeful greeting, excitedly asking questions about how Emily had been and where she had gone to. "Tonya! Tonya!" Emily almost yelled, smiling to herself. Some hunter that girl was, more likely than anything to get into trouble. "Look, Tonya, I'd love to chat for a long time or even come up and visit but this is more about a hunt." The silence now on the other end urged Emily to continue. "Suzie was killed a few nights ago. You remember Suzie from Baltimore, yeah?" It was more of a rhetorical question, since no one who had ever crossed paths with the bubbly red headed Suzanne could ever forget her. "Well, it turned out to be a werewolf. I was planning to hunt this thing down myself but I got a lead on a side project I've been working on." Emily stopped as Tonya sighed, as if concerned, at her last statement.

"I heard you have been running with the Winchesters." Emily threw her hands up slightly off her wheel in exasperation. "How in the hell are you guys hearing about this stuff? We only hooked up briefly for a couple of jobs. I just so happen to be looking for their father as well." Another sigh made Emily roll her eyes, slightly shaking her head. "Look, Tonya, I don't criticism anymore than I need a gun that doesn't fire. I'm just calling because you guys are the closest and I know you and Aaron can take care of it. If you can't, fine, but just tell me so." The moments of silence were endless as Emily listened closely to the breathing on the other end of the line. "Fine. Where's it at?" Emily breathed a nearly silent sigh of relief and revealed the details about the job, getting off the highway she was on in order to head to Fort Wayne.

Emily looked up at the somewhat ramshackle wooden home before her, the patio itself looking almost like a death trap. She exhaled upwards, pushing a loose lock of brown hair out of her eyes. She stepped up the cracked stone path leading to the five or six decrepit stairs, stepping over several large chunks of concrete strewn about the place. As she neared, she took extra caution to eye the thin, nearly invisible wires just near the door, leading to the intimidating and concealed barrel of a shotgun. "Nice, John." She murmured, looking up and down the street. His style was unmistakable as far as his little booby traps went. She slipped a small pistol out of her belt in the back, discreetly hidden beneath a short trench coat. She probably looked suspicious as hell one way or another; gun or no gun. Electing to not even feign ability at picking locks, Emily slipped the slim metal tube-object from her pocket, screwing the silencer onto the pistol's mouth, shooting out the door handle with little more sound than the breeze through the trees. Taking delicate steps, Emily moved into the house. The... ABANDONED house. "God dammit!" she yelled, looking around. "Not one damn thing here." She couldn't feel John and she bet that the booby trap was probably not functional anymore. Furiously, she searched through the house, avoiding weak floorboards and finding next to nothing, with the exception of a few empty beer bottles, which no doubt were the result of teenage miscreants or whatever.

Emily sat on a dust covered chair, sending a billowing cloud of dust and whatever else into the air around her. She exhaled and blew most of it away, looking around. Not even a trace that he was here. Besides the shotgun, she wouldn't have thought he had been here at all. A slight hum filled the room as Emily's over-eager cell phone vibrated against her leg, almost tickling her. She reached down and grabbed it, pulling it up to her ear and flicking it open, almost immediately having the gruff male voice of Dean Winchester fill her ear. "Where are you!" filtered through her phone, causing her to smile just a bit. "Geez Dean, no greeting? No chit-chat? Where are your manners, my friend?" Emily, however, cut her smart-assery a bit short, sensing that, on the other line, they weren't in a joking mood. "What's the problem? Is something wrong?" she asked, leaning forward in the chair. She balanced the gun on her fingers, leaving it to sway harmlessly between her knees. Silence lingered in the air as Emily simply listened, focused on the other person on the line. "A tried and true demon? Are you sure? Me? I've only encountered about a dozen or so but I'm a special case." Emily was a bit surprised that the boys had actually stumbled upon a demon. "Oh, umm, look in your dad's journal. I gave him an exorcism once upon a time. Should be in there still. Other than that, though, I don't think I can be much help. Bring some holy water for sure." Dean sounded surprised when she mentioned holy water so Emily simply rolled her eyes and confirmed that it actually did work.

"Sounds like you boys have it all figured out. But I have to go. I'm, uh, following a lead of sorts." She fell back in the chair, her back hitting the cushions and sending another cloud of dust up around her. Silence on the other end for a moment, making Emily somewhat confused. "Where are you, Em? Why won't you tell us where you've been?" Emily exhaled swiftly, suddenly overcome by feelings of guilt and sadness. She composed herself as quick as she could and sighed, looking around the room. "I'm just thinking Dean. I'm in Indiana for the time being but I'll probably be running out again soon. Look, just try to trust me for now, ok? I'm fairly confident I'll be back with you two within the month." Emily frowned at herself and stood, holstering her weapon and gently brushing off areas of her clothes she could easily reach. "Look, I do have to go. I'll talk to you guys later. Say 'Hey' to Sam for me, will ya?"

Emily hit the power button on her phone and slipped it into her pocket, taking one final search of the house. She wasn't lying to Dean at least. She just wasn't telling him what the leads were, where they came from, or what they were about. Even still, she felt pretty guilty about making them worry about her. It had been so long since she had been close with humans in a physical sense. Sure, she made contacts when on jobs but if a job lasts longer than a week, you're doing something wrong. "How long has it been? A century or...or..." she kind of just let her voice fade as a crushing weight engulfed her heart, causing her breathing to become short and difficult. She gripped her shirt tightly just over her heart, waiting for it to fade away. Just as the memory would. Emily had more scars than she was willing to show, especially since most were emotional. Until she could learn to control the emotions that, more and more, came naturally, she could not face her past. And that could only lead to the repetition of her mistakes. Finishing her search, she was disappointed that she found nothing. Not a note or anything. She opened the front door, carefully acknowledging her surroundings as she rendering the booby trap completely incapable of injuring anyone. She was frustrated and anyone with half a brain could tell. She ripped the shotgun from its hiding place and made her way down the steps, the decrepit wood nearly giving way to her 120lb body. The car she stole, the Nissan, was actually a pretty decent car for her to start up a weapons hole in it. She already changed the plates and all she needed was a new VIN and some fake registration. Emily popped the trunk and threw the weapon in, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she closed the trunk and looked at the coming sunset, recalling the lunar cycle stages.

Emily sat in silence in the car, the radio turned off, with her cell phone in her lap. 'Take care of my boys, Em.' Text message. And from an unknown number, the bastard. Emily didn't know what to do at the moment. John wanted her to be with the boys and take care of them, she wanted to find John, Tonya and Aaron couldn't take care of the wolf, and she was practically going around in circles like water down a drain. As she drove up the dark highway towards Detroit, she had an overwhelming sense of calm. John was ok. He wasn't dead somewhere, nor was he purposefully making his spawn run around in circles on purpose. She trusted his judgement and, if he didn't want help, she wouldn't force it. Emily was going to return to the Winchesters and protect them. But, first, Suzie had to be avenged.

[Sorry it's so short, my lovelies! This was a tough chapter to write because there really wasn't much to it. At first, I was going to detail the relationship of John and Emily until I realized that this might as well just be filler – Ichi]


	6. Bloody Mary   Skin

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Bloody Mary" – "Skin"

Emily looked up as the shabby motel door opened, all of the glass and mirrored surfaces covered by sheets and the like. "She was pretty. A bit young, I would say." She greeted to the bewildered Winchesters. "Emily! What the hell happened!" Emily then looked to her shoulder, a large set of claw gashes running through the visible skin. "Well, you see, I need some help with this." She stood and slipped her torn shirt off her torso. Her simple purple bra had been mangled and was now tinted red in some parts and, now, one could see that Emily's body wasn't exactly perfect. Scars criss-crossed every which way of different length and cause across her stomach. "I heard you were particularly good with a needle and thread." She said, pointing at Sam who, like Dean, seemed to be facing a moment of shock. Whether it concern for the bleeding wound or the fact that she was topless, well, she decided not to make assumptions. Instead, Emily simply waved her hand in front of them. "Girl bleeding here." The boys shot into action at that. Dean grabbed two chairs from the table across the room, putting one for her to straddle near the bed and one for, presumably, him right in front of it. Sam disappeared into the bathroom as Dean helped her situate herself, the fumbling clatter of objects on the shelves from the bathroom concerning her. "Slow down, Sam! Geez. It's not a race. But you will need some rubbing alcohol or some type of hard liquor." Dean looked at her oddly. "Not for me." She murmured to him, smirking slightly. She wasn't one for drinking one way or another. Her system metabolized it too fast.

Sam returned, setting his instruments on the bed and moving behind her as Dean sat in front of her, looking directly into her golden brown orbs as she looked back into his hazel eyes. "You look like you have a question, Dean." She hissed softly after that as Sam stroked a whiskey-laced cloth along her wounds. "Well, first and foremost... Well, what the hell!" He seemed fairly awe-struck as he grabbed her hand as she cringed in pain. "I assume you're wondering about the wound and there is a perfectly rational explanation." As Sam first pierced her damaged skin with the needle, Emily hesitated, gently squeezing Dean's hand. "You see, I was tracing this death of a pretty good friend of mine. Another hunter, Suzanne, and it was a pack of 'Wolves." She looked back slightly, seeing the needle going in and out smoothly, creating a simple but effective suture. At least she wasn't going to bleed to death. She turned back to Dean and shrugged. "It turned out the father of this family, like this new family with a young wife and this gorgeous little girl, got bitten one night." Emily seemed very broken up, her eyebrows pulled tightly together as she tried to hide what she felt. "Anyway, it wasn't long before his family was just like him. So, I killed them but..." Emily paused, just as Sam and Dean stopped for a moment in time to hear what she had to say. "That little girl was barely four. And I had to shoot her in the heart with a silver bullet." Emily gasped slightly, looking down for a moment. Resting her forehead against the back of the cheap motel chair, feeling every bit a human as she ever had before. She felt Sam continue as Dean's grip tightened, her eyes clenching tight. "It's unrealistic but..." She looked up, directly at Dean. "I just wish we could save everyone. There are just certain people that need to be saved."

Emily slowly slipped a new female muscle shirt over her head, the light blue cotton slipping carefully over the crisp white bandages that covered her left shoulder and down just above her bra line. Now that the area had been given a head start, she had no doubt it would be gone in no more than 24 hours. "Hey Em?" She turned as she heard Sam through the door. "Yep?" she responded hesitantly, having believed them both to be unloading the trunk of her stolen car into the Impala. "I've heard that you heal almost instantly, for the most part. So, I was just wondering...Why did you need help with this?" Emily smiled a bit, thinking that perhaps the boys had been asking around about her. "Well, lots of people don't know it but the claws of a werewolf contain a very small amount of venom in them. It isn't enough to turn you but it delays healing in most people and, for me, gives me a damn near terrible infection that can last for as long as a week." She adjusted her shirt to slip over her belt, adjusting it as to not bother her bandages and still remain comfortable. She picked up her bag with her ruined clothes in it and shoved it into a small backpack, just as she heard the rushed heavy footsteps of Dean entering the room. "Emily! What are you doing with a DefTech 37?" he asked excitedly. Emily opened the door, her backpack grasped in her right hand. "Desperate times call for desperate measures." Dean's bewildered look seemed to intensify as if she was a hazard. "A grenade launcher?"

Emily sat quietly in the backseat, perusing a map. "There's a gas station just up the way, eh?" she murmured. "I personally haven't heard about another job but, if you guys have heard about one in, say, Hawaii? Well, I'd be down for that!" Sam looked back at her briefly with a smile and then went back to his phone. Emily, weakly holding back a smile, looked at Dean in the rear view, raising her eyebrows. "Who are you texting there, Sammy?" Emily looked back at the map, hiding her face so Sam wouldn't see her giggling at Dean's little nickname. She knew Sam didn't like it but she couldn't help but find it funny. She hopped out of the car as Dean parked at the gas station as he discussed an upcoming job, running inside to grab a quick pop. She stood in the store for a few moments, listened to the news about a family who had all been killed. She selected an over-sugared carbonated beverage and moved away, throwing a few dollar bills onto the absentee clerk's table and made her way outside, seeing the boys discussing something. "What's up?" she asked, coming up over Dean's shoulder to see what was happening. "My friend's brother has been accused of murder." Sam said, pretty surprised at the entire circumstance. "Look, we aren't going to St Louis, Sam. Its 400 miles behind us." Dean's statement snapped her out of her small trance at the concept of Sam befriending murderers. "Look, it may not be our problem, or at least our type of problem, but Sam's right: Maybe his friends deserve a bit of our time. I mean, we investigate things for a living...Kind of. Might help to exonerate him." Seeing that he was being doubled teamed, Dean saw he had no choice. Emily listened to the squeal of the tires as the Impala pulled away from the gas station.

"Look, you go to your friend's house. All things considered, I don't want to have your friend get the wrong impression." With little argument, Sam just nodded and looked back to the road. "I'll head to the library, maybe chat up some cops, and see if anything has been happening." Emily watched her sudo-brothers speed away, shoving her hands into her light brown cloth coat, walking down the road towards the center of town, following small signs that pointed to the library. As she walked, she made note of the affluent neighbourhood, the peaceful silence and safety that people should feel in a community was abundant. Yet, she knew it wasn't so. Her instincts turned her stomach around every which way and told her this WAS their type of problem. Rounding a corner, she barely dodged a female jogger coming the other way, falling slightly on a man sitting on a concrete planter with a book. She looked up at her face, his dark hair and beard not taking away from his somewhat happy demeanour. "So sorry. I really didn't mean to." She stood up straight and smiled, moving along down the street. When she looked back, she noticed that the accident hadn't even fazed him. She looked forward once more, a slightly confused expression on her face, and glance back, noticing him focusing very intently on an apartment building across the way. More specifically, the couple standing outside. Emily looked straight forward and kept walking, brushing it off as a touch of paranoia. "Well, I could certainly afford it." She muttered quietly, gently touching her injured shoulder. It had been about six days since Sam had patched her up and while the wound was mostly healed, the remaining injured flesh itched and the healed portion had turned to scars.

"Dean, I really do think this may be our problem. No, I'm not kidding. Well, I found a couple cases that are similar." Emily headed towards the crime scene, having stayed at the library all night. She sipped her black coffee, knowing that the caffeine wouldn't have a particular effect but damn did that bitter taste wake a person up. She rounded a corner, walking to a fresh crime, still being cordoned off by the police. "Umm, Dean? You might want to walk north two blocks. Looks like a fresh crime." She hung up the phone and approached an officer, asking him the simple run around questions, just to put him a little at ease. She only had to manipulate him for a little while before she got most of the information out and Dean arrived. She moved over to the Winchester with what she knew. "Alright so essentially, the first responder heard the guy's story and thinks he's wacked out of his gourd. He was in a car, he said, when his wife there was attacked and, when he got home early, he found his wife all tied up and beaten and then encountered himself." She raised her eyebrows at Dean, indicating significance. "He was then knocked out and came to when the police showed. I'm about 94 percent sure this is our type of problem." Emily and Dean hurried to Sam, who was trying to trail this thing. Dean unravelled the story to his younger brother as Emily just observed, looking up the telephone post. "I doubt it's just a simple case of doppelgangers. I mean, I've hunted one or two of them myself but doppels are rare as hell and the chances of two showing up are nil." Sam looked at her and then to Dean. "Shape shifter?" Emily nodded and crouched down, looked underneath some blue recycling bins. "More'n likely. Plus these places are really close to each other. From what I understand, American shifters tend to establish a 'lair' if you will." Sam nodded, looking up. "Have you ever heard of one that flew, Em?" Emily looked up at him and stood, shaking her head. "Well, we had a trail just like this one at Zach's place and they both have just disappeared." Emily drew a blank, gently scratching her scalp, accidentally dislodging a loose lock of brown hair. "Can't go up, it must have gone down." Everyone's eyes dropped to the sewer as Emily just frowned. "I wish fewer jobs had sewers involved."

Emily dashed madly through the wet and slimy halls of the sewer systems, chasing after the creature that got the drop on Dean. "You're not getting away you bastard!" she growled, sliding slightly around a corner, giving the shifter a chance to get street level. She couldn't teleport after him either. Too many humans. She tucked her gun into her belt underneath her jacket and jumped up, grabbing onto the metal ladder rungs and pulling her weight up, getting topside in a hurry. She took off after him but it wasn't long until she lost him. She slowed on a street corner, having gotten fairly turned around. She breathed deeply, setting her hands on her hips. "Getting slow, Em." She looked back and lightly jogged to the nearest street sign, realizing she had chased the damn thing for nearly four miles in a circle. Now the damn thing was probably loose in the sewers again.

Emily sat listening to the police scanner intently, sitting in some empty motel room, listening closely for the code she wanted to hear, if only to know where to look. Sam and Dean had disappeared when she left them alone. The Impala was taken, probably by the damn thing, and it was more than likely dressed up like one of them. "Who's to say it wouldn't just keep on doing what its doing?" She stopped herself suddenly, feeling every bit the idiot she knew she was. "Becky!" she hissed, hopping up. Just as she reached the door, the code '217' rang out over the scanner with Sam's friend's address following closely behind. She was out the door before the call was completely, teleporting through the city without remembering that, when around humans, she couldn't teleport much without being completely drained. She picked up Sam and Dean's 'scent', if you could call it that, fairly easily.

"Nice Dean. Nice." Emily was less concerned with how good his 'artistic rendering' mug shot looked and more concerned about the fact that Sam had made him a wanted felon. Well, more wanted than he already was. "Look, let's be calm and get you the hell out of sight. We can't stop this thing while we're in prison." Sam frowned as they moved into an ally, Emily leading the little pack. "What do you have to worry about? You can just Houdini your little ass out of prison. I have some freak walking around with my face." Emily stopped and gently rubbed her forehead, Sam stopped to reason it out with Dean. Sure, he was perfectly justified in being upset and wanting revenge but she simply wished he could bottle it up for a few more hours so they could kill the thing. Sam mediated perfectly, clearly knowing how hot headed Dean and her could get, and basically justified finding the Impala, arming themselves, and then going to find the thing. "Fine fine fine. It probably drove the car to Becky's and, odds are, it's still there."

"Dean, we really should have waited for Sam." She murmured, following him once again through the sewers, miserable that she was forced back into the rank recesses of the city's underbelly. She felt terrible, having left Sam behind only to follow Dean back into the sewers. He motioned for silence as they both paused, hearing movement ahead. However, approaching the central lair, they notice another hapless soul roped down underneath a greenish-tarp. While Emily stood guard, Dean pulled off the sheet of plastic to reveal Becky. "Oh Jesus." She hissed, moving down beside the poor girl, helping Dean free her from her bonds. "Sam went to see you, Becky. Dean, we have to get to Sam before he gets killed." Dean was first off the ground, followed closely by Emily and Becky. They had to move fast.

Emily waved at the petite friend of Sam, smiling at their goodbyes. She stood beside Dean, leaning on the front of the hood, turned to look at the map. "Hey Dean. What's the date?" She asked, genuinely not knowing the day or month. Knowing there was no date on his watch, Dean still looked at it. "May 16th, I think." Emily went quiet for a moment and then moved around the car, slipping inside. Dean followed her with an odd look and joined her in the car. In silence, the three drove through the country, Emily simply looking out the window, unmoving. "Hey, Emily. What made you so quiet?" She seemed shocked in her reflection, enough that Dean actually turned to look at her. She scoffed slightly and shook her head. "Well, I hate to do this so soon after we just got together but I do have to leave again. Only for a week, though." Silence, again, filled the vehicle, before Sam just had to ask 'why'. "Well, there's no easy way to say it. My mother died a long time ago in two days. I honour her life as we did back then. Western culture knows it best as 'funeral games' but it is really just a period of honouring and remembering." She looked back out the window, not really revealing much more about herself. Dean glanced back and forth from the road to her before pulling off of it, putting the sleek black car into park. "Emily, I know you're a paranormal...well...person." Emily smirked. "Creature. You can say it. I've been called worse by people I respected less than you." Dean and Sam exchanged looks before the eldest continued. "And we understand that, sometimes, some things should just be better kept to oneself. But, if you wouldn't mind. We'd like to get to know you a bit." Emily sighed and stroked a hand through her smooth hair. "Sam and I discussed it before and we kind of just want to know two things, if that's alright." Dean was being too understanding. Not to say he was an impenetrable wall of jerk but he wasn't always gentle when asking for information. In fact, he was usually all rough and tough about it. She motioned for him to continue nonetheless. "Well, Sam was wondering what you did back on the bridge when we first met you. And I'm wondering just how old you really are."

Emily composed herself for a few moments, not sure how to explain herself without shocking them both. "Alright. You asked sincerely and were rational in your logic so I will do my best to answer you as honestly as I can." She turned to Sam as both turned to give her their full attention. "You'll find that I have numerous supernatural abilities that, potentially, nothing you've ever hunted has had before. I can manipulate molecules and energies around me enough to temporarily create objects or even to distort space-time and 'teleport', as it were. I'm very powerful. But, I made the decision to stay with you and constant contact with humans results in several sacrifices. As I spend more time around you, I will become more mortal. I can be slowed down easier, I will require rest and sustenance, and my healing won't kick in quite as quick. As well, most of my powers will become dormant. With prolonged exposure, I shall begin to age as a normal human would. Well, a particularly slowly aging human, anyway." Emily then leaned back in the seat and looked between the brothers, not really giving them time to process the information before loading on more. "I was born before there was time or days of the week, months of the year. I was born before Christ, before Rome or Greece or Persia. I was one of the first humans...Or, well, my mom was one of the first homo sapien sapiens. It's hard to understand, I know. Unbelievable. But I want you both to know because I not only want you to trust me, I also want you to understand me." She looked at Dean for a moment. "My mother was murdered by a creature that shouldn't exist when I was, what should have been, fourteen. I was out hunting and that thing massacred my people, save for myself and two others with me." She stopped once again and leaned forward. "We all got into the Hunt somehow. It doesn't matter how many generations we are apart. Only that we are allies. And I understand if you guys don't want me around. I don't even know if John knew all of this, actually." She closed her eyes tightly, her brown orbs a little teary from the recollection of her clan's slaughter. She opened them and looked at them one at a time. "What could we do without you? I mean, we need someone for bait." Sam and Emily smiled at that comment and Dean put the car in gear. "We aren't getting rid of you. Not yet anyways."

[Hello readers! Multiple Announcements with this update! First up! I now have a posting schedule. I will do my darndest to get each new 'chapter' or 'episode' up within two weeks of each other. So, two weeks from, lets say, February 1st (AKA February 15th!) There shall be a new chapter. I am really good with deadlines so do not expect to be let down. On that note, however, I am facing some serious issues concerning my computer which is slowly, and sadly, dying on me and some lovely real life drama that should be cleared up soon enough I hope. And that leads me to my third announcement: The double feature here. I combined two episodes into one in an effort to appease you! I had to reveal a bit more than I generally would have liked to but, hey, stuff has to happen eventually. So, under the circumstances that I somehow don't get an update done by June 15th (AKA two weeks from this update), I hope this will make you not hate me and keep you interested in my story. FINALLY, my fourth announcement is that there will be no chapters written for 'Hook Man' or 'Bugs', since Emily is at her 'funeral games' and I haven't worked out the method quite yet. Don't hate me! I'm not usually this disorganized in my writing! This is what happens when too much real life happens to a person. Any who! To Sum it UP!

Two weeks = One update

I honour deadlines

My computer is reaching the end of it's sad and miserable life. Woe is it

Ichi has a life that's tough Ichi is Canadian Ignore this one

No chapter for Hook Man or Bugs

Keep reading because the story means a lot to its author!

Thank you so much for the reviews so far, they are really nice and flattering. Thank you for boosting my self esteem! 3 Ichi]


	7. Home

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Home"

The car had been sunk into a deafening silence, with Emily in the backseat, her soft brown eyes looking back and forth from Dean and Sam. Sam was deep in thought, one of his visions. Dean was angry, perhaps. Scared, even, at the thought of returning home. She had returned from her mother's honouring just in time to find the Winchesters rushing out, barely knowing what was going until they had finally gotten on the road. The chaos of the brothers combined with the inherent melancholy of having just relived her mother's death had put Emily into the forced silence she couldn't seem to break. Neither a witty comment, nor a concerned thought came to her that seemed appropriate to say. Thus the car just drove into the night, without the obnoxiously loud music Dean often played or the bickering that often erupted between the three of them concerning anything, from the music, to space, to what to eat, and everything in between. She slid forward slightly, leaning between her two favourite males. Sam looked at her first, Dean giving her a small acknowledgement before turning his eyes back to the road. "How was your... time away?" Sam murmured half heartedly, hesitating before completing his comment simply because how would one ask that question? Emily frowned slightly, and looked at him. "It was a long mourning period. Not particularly good for small talk." She gently patted his shoulder to show she hadn't been offended or anything. "I have to know, though, why we are going to Lawrence. All I know is that you had a vision, am I correct?" Emily was a little spooked by this 'ESP' thing Sam suddenly had going on. She was a supernatural creature but foresight wasn't an exact science in anything she had seen yet. Sam's accuracy and the amount of details he could give were astonishing.

"I saw this woman in our old house and she was slamming on her windows for help, screaming." Emily looked between Sam and Dean, down at the arm rest, thinking about the implications. "I can only assume, but this isn't the first time this has happened, has it?" Sam's soulful eyes hit hers as she looked up at him and she instantly knew the truth. Without obligation, Sam murmured a quick 'no' and looked ahead. She saw Dean look over, sizing Sam up as if he wanted to fight him. However, after noticing Emily's gaze, he muttered something about gas and pulled into a dingy gas station, the lights in the sign barely working as they flickered in the night. The Impala screeched to a stop and Dean hopped out faster than Emily could spout out a drink order for a road pop. "I'm going to call it and say that Dean is either pissed or scared." She muttered to Sam. She turned and looked at him, finding him looking almost scared. "What's happening to me Emily?" Sam whispered, meeting her gaze. Emily frowned and shook her head from side to side, loose locks of brown hair tickling the sides of her face. "I don't know Sam. I've never met a human with honest to god foresight. If this turns out to be true, it's going to cause more problems down the road. More enemies than we need." She leaned her head against Dean's head rest, just looking at Sam. "When did this happen before?" She paused for a moment. "It was Jessica, wasn't it?" she murmured, not really needing an answer. Sam seemed a bit surprised but Emily shook her head, holding up her hand to stop him from asking. "I've been around the block. And I can read people better than I can books." Dean suddenly appeared, shoving himself through the open doorway, sliding into the car with jerky motions. He passed back a root beer for Emily, her favourite, and put his seat belt on. Emily smiled and leaned back as Dean turned the Impala on, her soft purr resonating through Emily in a comfortable reminder of what had become her home. With that warming notion, Dean put her in gear and sped off into the night.

Emily wandered from the phone company's front doors, flipping through some papers absently before sitting at a bench, just taking a moment to breathe. She had almost immediately asked to be let out of the car when they hit Lawrence. The tension in the Impala was damn near unbearable. But, more than that, visiting their childhood home was something that Emily knew had to be done alone. She was not concerned by the nature of that in the slightest. The truth was that, in this partnership she had taken up with her favourite mortals, there were times where they would need to complete things by themselves, just as she would need space for certain things. Like her mother's funeral games. Or…hers… Emily snapped back to now, the all too familiar ache welling in her heart from memories. She looked at the papers and slipped them back into the folder. She would look over them later, before her interview with that old doctor. She decided the PI route was the quickest way to find some information on the history. It wasn't that she didn't trust Dean or John but unbiased opinions could, potentially, be more useful because they are based on facts. She slipped her phone from her pocket just in time for Dean to be calling her. "Hello?" she said, kind of surprised that Dean was calling her. She seemed to be on his bad side today. Actually, she was pretty sure the world was on Dean's bad side today. "Where are you? We're coming to get you." She sighed quietly and nodded to herself. This had to be tough. "I'm right out in front of the…" She saw them coming around the corner and hung up, flagging them down and hopping in the back seat. "Anything wrong with the house or the residents?"

Emily looked up at the huge white house, surprised. "Wow. I can't believe they were able to rebuild it after the fire." She muttered, earning a look from Dean. She couldn't figure out if everything she said was insensitive or just the things she had said SO FAR, since Dean had been giving her that look every single time she opened her mouth. Unfortunately, she just couldn't stop talking. She was nervous and, like humans, she liked to fill the silent voids with words. "So how do you want to play this?" Dean finally looked at Sam normally, addressing him with a simple question. Sam sighed and replied with his almost automatic response of 'Let's just tell them the truth', which always put Emily in a foul mood. Humans couldn't take reality as it was. Only a select few were mentally strong enough to look into the face of reality and be able to adjust. Victims of the supernatural would remain victims if they couldn't deal. So, like always, Emily looked at Sam oddly just as Dean did. "Sam, in what circumstance would someone let a stranger who is raving about ghosts and monsters into their home to help them? Aside from priests, I can't think of anyone else." Dean gave her that weird look again at the 'priest' comment and then looked back to Sam. "Maybe we should look around, talk to people in town about your family and the fire. See if, you know, anything odd has…been…happening." She hesitated on her words as Dean's eyes pierced her. "Jesus Dean! What is your goddamn problem! You guys dragged me here so I could help and every damn word I say makes you look at me like I just kicked your puppy!" Emily just lost it, faster than she was able to compose herself. She gasped slightly and leaned back, covering her mouth with a hand as she slumped in the back. Both Sam and Dean were now looking at her with the most confused expressions. "Wow…" Sam muttered, looking at Dean briefly, then back to Emily. "Wow, I've seen you that emotional…Ever." Emily frowned and lowered her hand, looking between them. "It just means I'm becoming more human by being around you guys. Soon, I'll start having to sleep and eat as well. My main concern is that it's been quite a few centuries since I've been around humans this much. I forget how to handle my emotions like I used to." Her eyes trailed to Dean. "Sorry man." She crossed her arms over her chest and just sat there, brooding. For a few extra moments, they watched her before turning back to face the front. "Emily has a point. Let's go talk to some old friends of dad's. Somebody might know something." Emily and Sam just nodded in unison and Dean slipped away from their dreaded childhood home.

Emily nodded as she was offered a smoke by the old doctor she was speaking to. While she didn't miss the irony, she couldn't bring herself to smile under the circumstances. Standing near some picnic tables far from the entrance of the hospital, Emily resumed her cover of a PI looking into the disappearance of John Winchester. She knew the history, having gotten John talking about it when they first met almost 13 years ago. Lucky for her, however, this doctor loved to talk. He seemed to genuinely be concerned after finding out John was missing, despite the elder Winchester having, supposedly, never been back to Lawrence. But what could a doctor know? She had already gone through Mary's autopsy report with him, discussed the mental and physical state of John, Dean, and Sam after the incident, and pretty much all that was medical. Apparently, John had been assigned a psychologist but, after only attending one session, quit after reportedly saying he would go to another professional, Missouri. Sounded like a stripper to Emily but she sincerely doubted John would visit a stripper so soon after Mary's death. That's just cold blooded. She took a long drag off her borrowed smoke and slipped it into the 'butt can' attached to the wall behind the doctor. "Thanks very much for your help. I appreciate it." She said a perfect smile on her face as she shook his hand while he was finishing his smoke. "One more thing, Ms. Cavendish." Emily released his hand and looked up at him. "When John left, we got his youngest boy, Sam's, blood tests back. There was an abnormality. We have yet to identify it and it doesn't seem detrimental but, if it was, it probably would start showing soon. So, if you find John or his son there, might want to tell him to get tested." Emily found that odd but instead of displaying it, she merely smiled, gave a quick nod, and turned, heading around the other side of the hospital. She slipped her cell phone out and quickly dialled Sam's number, slipping the phone up to her ear as she selected a white Toyota to steal for a quick second. She slid inside as Sam answered. "Well, the doctor didn't know much in reference to the aftermath of the house and whatnot and, judging by the records I picked up from the phone company, the new tenant has been having some problems. She's called pest control about rats, some dinky repair company about her sink and an abundance of other things." She paused, intending to wait for a response before she kind of mini-gasped, remembering the name. "Oh, and the doc said that John quit his therapist almost immediately to go to someone named Missouri." That seemed to startle Sam and Emily cocked her head slightly to the right as she was driving, waiting for an explanation. "We got the same name from a phone book and Dean says he recalls…Yep, on the first page of dad's journal it says 'Went to Missouri for the truth'." She heard Dean in the background _"I thought he meant the state."_ Emily pondered a moment. Missouri clearly wasn't a therapist, and it definitely wasn't the state. "Maybe John went to some kind of channeler or something. Seeking the truth about what he saw. Maybe Missouri told him about the supernatural. We've got to find him! Or her! Or it!"

Emily ditched the touchy Toyota about three blocks away from the garage where John used to work. She felt nostalgia, despite never having been there herself. It was an odd feeling, to say the least. She found the brothers at a pay phone, flipping madly through pages for something. She approached, greeting them as suddenly as she could, startling Sam but not Dean. "If you wanted an escort, you should look in the papers." She mentioned off hand, Den chuckling in a fake kind of way. "Missouri Mosley. Found her." Emily looked shocked as she slipped in further, looking at the address and phone number of one Missouri Mosley: Psychic.

Emily sat awkwardly on a waiting bench outside her office beside Dean with Sam on the opposite side. "We should've brought cards." This time, both Sam and Dean looked at her oddly, to which she shrugged. All at once, voices arose from the office as the door opened. "Don't worry Tom. Your wife is crazy about you." Emily eyed both Missouri and the man, Tom, closely. "Bye bye now!" The psychic let out a sigh as she shut the door firmly behind her last client. "That poor man." She opened her mouth to continue. "His wife is sleep with either the gardener or the pool man." She interjected, smiling. Missouri looked at her with a smile as both Dean and Sam eyed her. "Gardener, unfortunately." She responded. Dean began to inquire as to why Missouri lied to that man, only to be told that the truth and money don't always agree. As the psychic moved to return to her office, she paused. "Well come on in Sam and Dean! I don't have all day." Emily was a little shocked at that. This woman was good. A lot of hunters, she thought as she stood and moved towards Missouri's office, still believed psychics to be hokum, for lack of a better term. But, either way, some psychics had real ties to the supernatural world. Standing awkwardly in the small, but nice, office, Emily waited to be told to sit. Missouri sized Sam and Dean up and down, commenting on how big they had gotten. Just as all three went to sit, Missouri stopped Emily from sitting, looking her over. "You are a hard person to read." Emily smiled slightly, giving the Winchesters a sideways glance. "Things tend to get a little muddled when you don't even know what you are." She murmured softly, giving the psychic a wink. Missouri smiled the way a mother would to a child. "Well, you aren't human and I think you might be better for it. Boy, don't you even think about putting your feet on my coffee table!" Her attention was suddenly directed at Dean who had not moved an inch since he sat down. He had been called on something he hadn't done yet. Emily flopped down beside him on the couch, crossing one slim leg over the other. She remained quiet for the most part, listening to Missouri's interactions with John, how she watched over the house. Finally, it became time for Missouri to go back with them to the house.

Emily smiled as a visibly shaken woman answered the door. Emily didn't know her name but it seemed as though the level of haunting had escalated from rats and light problems to something worse. She looked about ready to scream and cry. Missouri was quick to blow their cover story, granted most of it was true, but was very blatantly honest with the poor woman. The logical way Missouri appealed to her clearly did the trick because, before Emily could blink, she was helping Missouri 'sense' the house. There was a lot of different spirits, it felt like. Like over the years, this house had been visited many times by spirits, both benevolent and not so much. Missouri honed in better and detected two different spirits. Emily was good at sensing poltergeists but finding spirits that were good or more neutral in their 'fingerprint' was much more difficult because their presence was mostly undefined. The next step was total purification. "I've got some stuff to help. It's in the car." She said to Missouri specifically, knowing she would know what was intended. "I'll...Help?" Sam said, heading straight after her. "What's up with you, Em?" Emily looked back at Sam and shrugged. "Depends. What do you mean?" she asked curiously, practically racing down the steps. "Well, you've been quiet. Which is fairly bizarre for you." Emily opened her mouth to defend herself but realized that, all in all, he was right. "Fair enough. There isn't really anything wrong right now. I just have nothing to say. Missouri's presence pretty much eliminates the need for my input. Plus, I don't want to give that woman any more information about me than she already knows." Gathering items from a small purple bag she had thrown in, Emily filled Sam's arms with vials and small sacs full of herbs and small objects. Bones and the like. She wasn't sure what would be most effective so she figured she'd take what she thought was prudent. "Alrighty. Time to clear this house!"

Emily sat, constructing the purification bags with Dean, quickly finishing up two of them as Missouri sat, explaining things to the older Winchester as easily as she could. As Missouri got up to escort Jenny and her two children outside, Emily stood, leaving her coat at the table. She nodded to Sam and headed to her end of the house, wielding a mini-sledge hammer. She twirled it in her hands, attempting to be inconspicuous. She made it to an empty guest bedroom, boxes with various designations filled the room for the most part. She moved to the far corner of the room and gently sounded on the wall, hitting a small hole into it quickly. She widened the hole just as she heard a commotion from downstairs. She turned in time to yelp and duck under a flying object. It wasn't enough as several boxes flew at her, burying her under a pile of heavy boxes with a lot of painful bruises. Still, she managed to slip her bag in but it was not enough alone to get the boxes off. Not until she heard a resonating blast as white light filtered over the house, the boxes tumbling harmlessly off her. She gasped, realizing that her lungs had been under some serious pressure. She sat up, bleeding slightly from her eyebrow and arm. "Ow. Jesus." She hissed, standing slowly. Dean and Sam arrived at her door, followed quickly by Missouri. "Glad to see everyone is ok." She said, smiling as she limped towards the door. The group made their way down to the kitchen, where it appeared Dean got the worst of it based on the complete disaster area that it had become. "It doesn't feel over." She muttered quietly, just as Sam verbally stated similar views. Missouri looked back at Emily, causing her to meet her gaze.

Emily and Sam sat eagerly in the car as Dean attempted to sleep, waiting to see if anything would happen now that they had purified the house. Dean didn't feel the same but at least he was in better spirits. Emily frowned and stroked a hand through her silky brown hair, reaching for a hair tie. Sam's startled yell snapped her into action as all three dove out of the car. Running ahead of them, Emily called that she would grab Richie just as she barrelled up the porch, opening the door before her. The three split up, Sam heading for Jenny's daughter as Dean went for Jenny herself. Emily burst into Richie's room where he was crying. All the noisy toys in his room were turned on, making the room almost deafening. She scooped the boy into her arms and ran from the room, intercepting Sam as they ran down the hall. Sam stopped and put Sairie down and Emily followed suit, sensing the impending threat. "Run run run!" she yelled as they started moving. Sam was suddenly tripped and Emily grabbed on as hard as she could, being dragged with him until she braced her feet on the door frame. She held on hard but, as the front door slammed behind her, she was thrown by an unseen force across the room, hurtling into a small table with a glass flower pot on it. The cheerfully coloured pot shattered under the pressure, sending shards into Emily's sides and stomach. She grunted as she fell to the floor, getting up as fast as she was able. She cried out as the shards started shifting, being pushed deeper into her flesh by the entity. She was pressed against the entrance wall, slowly being lifted, as if by the shards. She heard Dean's pounding on the door, crying out again as the blue tip of glass disappeared into her skin, dropping to the ground. She rolled onto her back, shoving her fingers into the wound, removing a 5 inch long rounded piece of glass from her stomach. Finally, the shard came free just as Dean ploughed his way through the door with an axe. She was on her feet in seconds as Dean passed her the axe, arming her. While it wasn't an appropriate weapon for the circumstances, she would take it. Following Dean closely, they encountered the fire spirit that had been taunting Sairie. But Sam cried out for Dean to stop, seconds before the true form was shown to be that of Mary Winchester. Emily gasped softly, lowering her axe as, after a brief exchange, Mary banished the poltergeist.

"You know, the weight of the dead is too heavy to carry forever." Emily looked up at Missouri from the table where Sairie had just finished applying some My Little Pony band aids to her arm, despite the fast healing of the wounds. Sairie left quickly, as if she knew this was adult talk time. Missouri took a seat next to Emily, gazing at her with compassion and empathy. Emily, for once, could not hold her gaze. "Will you ever stop blaming yourself for her death?" Emily looked sharply at her, slamming her palm onto the table. "I didn't ask for advice." She nearly snarled, looking into the next room at Sairie who was preoccupied with Richie. Missouri shook her head. "You are willing to wander through your life blaming yourself? Never forgetting the memory?" Emily frowned, looking back at Missouri who, as well, had looked past her to Sairie. "Not every day someone is burned alive in front of you." The tone held humour but her face did not. Missouri stood, shaking her head, setting a gentle hand on Emily's bare shoulder. "Sam and Dean would understand. But joking about this won't ever make it better." Emily sat in silence as Missouri left, perking up as she heard Sairie's rushed footsteps. "Need any more first aid, Emily?" she asked cheerfully. Emily smiled and turned to her. "I think I'll heal up fine, Angie. Sorry! Sairie! Slip of the tongue." She stood and grabbed her coat, heading outside but saying goodbye to the kids first. As she walked past Missouri, she told the boys to not be strangers, giving her a significant look as well. She nodded sharply and slid into the back seat hurriedly. "You ok, Em?" Dean asked quietly, looking at her in the rear view. "I just want to get the hell out of Kansas, Dean." She said, smiling. She looked at Missouri once more, the two sharing a sombre, serious look before the Impala drove away.

[[Thanks for the waiting guys! It was tough for me to find time but I'm back and I should be updating with fairly regular intervals. Can't wait to get to the questions I've received and ALL will be answered in good time! Update date: 08/10/11; Next Update should be: 08/24/11

-Ichi]]


	8. Asylum

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Asylum"

"You falling asleep, there, Em?" Emily was a bit startled by Dean's sudden comment, realizing that her body had naturally slipped into a peaceful, restful state. Not quite sleep but too close to it for her personal comfort. "You know me. I don't sleep." She said, stretching out her tired limbs. She reached beside her into the crumbled, non-descript brown paper bag and removed the last cheeseburger, feeling that it was now cold. "Are you two SURE you don't want the last burger?" she asked, holding it up to them. Sam smirked and shook his head while Dean seemed to ponder his cheeseburger-future. Finally, he said no and Emily unwrapped the greasy delight and immediately drove her teeth through it, feeling as though she hadn't eaten in years from the first bite. "Hey, Em. What's up with the sleeping and eating?" Dean asked, Sam turning to better hear her response. Emily looked up at them in disbelief, hesitating enough to finish chewing and swallow the chunk of cold beef and cheese in her mouth. "Do you two, like, discuss how you're going to ask me questions before you do or what? You both always seem to have the same mindset when it comes to asking me about, well, me." She responded to Sam's smile in kind. "It's just a side effect. We've been on the road now together for what? Almost 5 months? For the time being, I'll just eat when there's food available if I feel like it. But, in a couple months, I will need to eat and drink and sleep just like you do." Emily stroked a hand through her hair. "I tell you, sleep isn't anything when you do it as regularly as humans do. But I haven't actually slept since Victorian England. The day I actually sleep will be the day where I need you guys the most." She paused a bit. "Well, more like days." Sam and Dean both gave her an odd kind of expression. "Am I going to get that look every single time I tell you something about me? I'm thousands of years old and what shocks you is that I'm going to sleep for 43 hours straight?" Sam seemed a bit taken aback but nodded slightly as he understood how preposterous the idea was. Dean, however, kept that same odd look on his face. "Thousands? I thought you were only a couple hundred years old." Emily smirked, then tried to hide her laugh, then just began to laugh, the cheery sound filling the car. "Oh Dean. That's like saying 'You don't look a day over twenty' to me."

Emily sighed softly, a smile still on her face and leaned back, looking down at the cheeseburger. "Anyway, when the time comes, and I don't know when it will, you'll notice that I'm losing my reflexes, becoming a bit dazed or confused, stuff like that. The faster I get into a bed, the faster my sleep will start and the faster it will be over. You see, I sleep anywhere from 36 to 72 hours straight and during that time, I cannot be woken up by anything. I need protection at all times. It isn't due for another couple months at this rate. That's why I didn't tell you two yet." She brought the cold burger back up to her mouth and took another bite, slowly chewing and allowing the meat and bread to move around, giving her the full flavour. "How do you know your patterns so well? I thought you lived on your own for the most part." Emily met Dean's eyes as he fluidly asked the question, realizing now was just as good a time as any to discuss bits and pieces. There were things they had to know. For both her safety and theirs. "While this isn't exactly sharing time, I'll be honest. I didn't just kind of pop into existence as the drop dead gorgeous creature I am today." She said, leaning back up between the seats. "I was born to a human a long, long time ago. I lived in that tribe as their protector for almost seventeen winters. My powers were mostly dormant and I had basic human needs but I was still more powerful than any human. Plus, we still had supernatural threats back in those days." She shrugged slightly, as if it was nothing. "Then, almost my entire tribe was wiped out, save for myself and two others who had been hunting with me. I left after I buried my mother and that was when I learned the true extent of my powers and that's when I stopped aging. Over the millennia, there have been short times here and there where I've been around humans enough to add to my age but, overall, this is one of the longer times I've been around humans." She stopped and looked between them as they processed the information. Sam was the first to say anything about it. "So, essentially, you were seventeen when you went out on your own and slowly, over time, you just kind of aged here and there? You look in your mid twenties." Emily paused, her eyes very nearly welling up with moisture at sudden memories. "Story time is over kids." She murmured as she leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. She could tell both brothers were disappointed by her sudden silence. "Don't worry, guys. There's plenty of time to get to know me. But some wounds are fresh and I don't know you that well."

Sam turned back to the front as Emily lifted up the current research from the floor, sifting through the folder. "This place sounds like cat nip for paranormal activity. And a mental hospital to boot. That's almost cliché." She muttered, not taking her eyes off the words on the pages. "Well, I'm not surprised John sent you guys here." "Sent us." Emily looked up as Dean interrupted her, for what could be the first time. His eyes locked with hers in the mirror and she just smiled and nodded. "Sent us here. Looks like its unpredictable, you know? There are dozens of teens that went in and came out unharmed. Just a few freak times where people just kind of went bezerk." At that moment, Sam kind of gave Dean a look that she was sure Dean didn't see. From what she could tell, Sam was getting frustrated about that wild goose chase John was putting them on. She had gotten a text as well, but one she kept to herself. It simply said 'Look after my boys'. She huffed, nearly silently, at the frustrating text. She wanted to respond with 'How about you come and take care of them' or 'They can take care of themselves'. In actuality, when Sam and Dean had been sleeping, she had considered leaving again. Not to be chased or followed like most women but she had to wonder why she stayed. John was an acquaintance, yes, and a damn fine hunter, fair enough, but what business did Emily have here? Had she grown attached to the Winchesters? Was it even about John or was she just lonely? It had been centuries since she had been this close to, well, anyone. She looked at the back of their heads, from one to the other. Was it the brothers who had, by chance, endeared themselves to her? _'Why am I here?'_ she thought, looking out the window into the passing countryside.

Emily watched from the pool table as Dean and Sam put on their little show for the cop. There were only so many ways to get information out of a cop who had just lost a partner. There was the reporter who would ease into the discussion with questions about the cop himself, the empathetic ear, and the woman. Emily didn't feel right using her wiles on this man and he was seasoned and knew better than to talk to reporters. Emily leaned over the table, lining up her shot. "Four ball, corner pocket." She murmured quietly. With great ease, she hit the ball in, watching the purple solid roll in. "Nice shot, gorgeous." She heard over her shoulder as she leaned upwards. "If you'd like, I could show you how to really handle a stick." The moment she felt his hand on her, Emily slammed the butt of her pool cue into the man's groin, turning as he fell to his knees. "Two ball, center pocket." She leaned down, grabbing his hair to force him to look at her. "Touch me again and I will make damn sure it's just the one ball, next time." She hissed. She released him and moved around the table. "Eight ball, corner." As if nothing had happened, she sunk the eight ball and collected her eight hundred bucks from the man she challenged, who probably couldn't concentrate either from the v-neck shirt she had selected or from the mighty groin hit that left most of the men crossing their legs, feeling it themselves. She saw Sam getting up to leave and followed him, leaving her cue on the table. She shoved the money in her bra, catching up to Sam as he left the door. "I didn't know you could hustle pool." He muttered, smiling that wickedly handsome smile. "Please, I've been hustling pool since before you were born, boy." She drawled with a deep south accent. "Besides, I didn't have 800 to lose. Kind of had to win." Approaching Dean, Emily pulled the bills from her shirt and showed him her winnings. "Nice. What did we find out about the cop?" Emily slipped the money into her jean pockets and opened the back of the Impala, stripping off her v-neck and donning a tank top and shrugging her coat over her shoulders. "Right out in public? Really Em?" Emily turned to Dean as she zipped up her coat. "Quit looking if you hate it so much." She stated simply, smiling a bewitching smile as she rejoined their little circle, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "So apparently he and his wife were generally happy and planning on having a baby, correct?" Dean reiterated, looking from Sam to Emily, then back to Sam. "Essentially yeah. They had spats like every couple but the cop doesn't believe that his partner would kill his wife or himself."

Emily wandered down the hall in front of Dean, listening to him mocking Sam's visions, asking him to identify the most attractive psychic, himself included in the choices. She laughed as Sam pushed Dean forward, making him nudge her. She looked around the dank hallway, not sensing anything at all. They walked into a room that looked like something out of a horror movie. Well, since they pretty much lived a horror movie, she supposed it wasn't too much of a stretch. "So, when are we going to talk about it?" Emily turned to Sam as Dean did, creating a triangle. "Talk about what?" Emily looked to Dean and then back to Sam questioningly. "The fact that dad's not here." Emily frowned and moved away, breaking the triangle. "Sam, you want us to leave a job to go look for John. We're here now, ok? Let's just do the job."

"Dammit. Do any teens understand why a lock is there?" Emily whispered to Sam, holding her shotgun firmly to her shoulder. "What's the fun in an easy job?" Emily shook her head and smiled at that, standing back to back with the younger brother. "So you never really answered me last week…" Emily quickly moved around a corner, inspecting. "In regards to?" she asked, not taking the time to actually look at Sam. "What was up with you and Missouri? She seemed pretty fascinated by you." Emily frowned suddenly and huffed. "Is this really an appropriate time?" she asked quietly, nudging him slightly with the butt of her shotgun to impress upon him her point. She heard him sigh with what no doubt was a frown. "You have to understand, Emily…" She felt the brush of air behind her as he moved quickly to check a room. "Dean and I are curious about you. We need to know who we're travelling with. Nothing against you but, our family isn't terribly fond of the supernatural. I'm a bit surprised dad didn't kill you himself." Emily shrugged and stopped moving, facing him but looking beyond him as he faced her, also looking behind her. "I understand your concern and I appreciate your honesty but my life is not a memoir, nor is it for the faint of heart. I don't know what I am, for I've never met anything quite like me. I'm 100% sure you have both researched my powers trying to figure me out but I am the only one. I don't know the extent of my powers. I do know, however, that I will never bring harm to you or Dean. I can promise that." She turned once more and moved once again, keeping low, her footsteps nearly silent. "Where did you learn this stealthy walk?" he teased, poking fun at her. "I was a SEAL for six years until my identity came under scrutiny." She answered without hesitation, looking back at him with a smile. She turned back to find herself impaling a spirit with her weapon. She gasped audibly, the spirit's mouth moving peacefully as if he was having a simple conversation with her. She tried to listen but her gasp brought Sam around as he fired a salt round, causing the ghost to dissipate. She began to breathe very softly, making sense of that encounter in her head. "Are you ok?" Sam said, quickly looking around them. "Yeah…It just…I don't know what to make of that. I'm used to spirits throwing me around the room and whatnot. That one…" She shook her head and began moving forward once more. "Let's regroup with Dean." She turned to look at Sam, who just wanted to get this over with. Just from looking at the stressed line of his jaw and the tightness of his facial features, she could tell John's little hide and seek game was wearing down his patience. And she was sure that her clever manoeuvring around their questions wasn't helping. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled Dean quickly. "Where are you. We just saw one. He didn't attack us. At all. Seriously. Alright. We'll be there."

Emily ran up to the door where the Katherine was stuck inside, followed swiftly by Sam and her little boyfriend, Gavin. She wanted to force her way in but something held her back. It was that damn spirit, the pacifist who didn't harm her. Or even try to. "I don't think the ghost will hurt her." She murmured to Dean, listening through the door. Dean and Sam reasoned it out and yelled for her to simply listen to the ghost. The girl screamed for them to come and listen to him instead. "Quit your bitching! Listen to the spirit and stop being a giant coward!" Emily yelled through the door, earning her a look from the three men around her. She mouthed the word 'what' and then focused her attention on the now silent room. The quiet hallway seemed to remain that way for an eternity before the door latch finally released and Kat came out looking rather shocked. Her boyfriend moved over to her and she stated the ghost mentioned a room in the basement. Emily looked at Dean and nodded at him, implying it was about time to get the kiddies out of here so they could hunt some monsters. It wasn't that Emily didn't like kids. It was teenagers that were the problems. Not kids. Dean turned towards the exit, Sam turning and escorting the teens away. Emily followed as Dean headed off to see about the room, Emily taking up the rear. Arriving at the exit was very disappointing. "I didn't choose this job so I could be a babysitter, dammit." She whispered, hitting the door with the butt of her shotgun. The boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as she turned around but she simply held up her hand. "Please, you have a lifetime of dumb moments so let me stop you before you commit to this one." Sam tried to stop from smiling but failed readily, looking at her with disbelief. "Alright Missus Ray of Sunshine! You look for an alternate exit in the east wing, I'll look around." Emily nodded at Sam as he left and looked at Kat. "Sorry Doll." She said, heading out. However, as she looked for the exit, not a single ghost was to be found. It seemed as though they had said their piece and left. Or perhaps they were silently watching to see what had been happening. Or what was going to. She suddenly felt uneasy in her surroundings. She was waiting for something bad to happen. She paused and counted Mississippis. _One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi._

Nothing bad happened. She released a breath and continued into the lower sections of the east wing, hoping for a window that, perhaps, didn't have bars on it in a doctor's office or something. Perhaps a window where the bars were seriously damaged and could be broken. She searched every room high and low. Nothing. All at once, she wished she had been listening when the room number had been told to her. She made herself very aware of the salt and lighter fluid taped to her ankle. She had nearly forgotten about it with all the commotion. She paused in one room simply because two of the bars were missing in the small window. The main goal now was to get the teens out. The girl was slight enough and the guy's little shoulders would fit through. She spun her shotgun around, ensured that it would go off, and hit the small window with it. The decrepit wood only took two hits to completely break off. The glass shattered on the floor, the noise echoing down the long corridors. She set her weapon down on an overturned desk and lifted herself up on the wall while holding the bars, giving her the ultimate leverage. She braced her feet against the wall and pulled with all of her might, dislodging one of the severely rusted bars. She let herself drop to the ground and tossed the bar aside, the metal clanging against the hard floor. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned to dial Dean. For just one second, she realized she should have called Sam, knowing he was the one with the two kids who could bring them to the window. Even to give her a bit of help with the bars. She heard a massive creak and looked behind her as a door that she hadn't even seen before swung open. Her finger accidentally hit the call button as she went for her gun. A large metal pipe swung from the ceiling, aimed right for her. She raised her hands to defend herself but the heavy pipe smashed into her, cracking her phone nearly in half as it dropped to the floor in the room, and sending her, ass over tea kettle, into the hidden room, knocking her out cold. The hidden door slammed shut as Emily's unconscious body was approached by a dark figure who kept whispering that everything would be alright.

Emily slipped in and out of consciousness, feeling the hot liquid seeping from various wounds on her face. It smelled, and tasted like, copper. She knew she was badly wounded since she could barely move. Moving her fingers was almost so exhausting that she could barely stay awake. Finally, she mustered the strength to move her arm, wiggling her fingers as well. The disfigured, ghostly face of the doctor appeared above her suddenly, surprising her. She then realized she was strapped down tightly to a metal table. A surgical table. "Everything is going to be ok." Those were the least comforting words she could ever have imagined. He moved his hands over her face, small electrical sparks pouring over her skin. But aside from being slightly annoying, they didn't do more harm than a mosquito bite. He pulled his hands away and looked at her. "I want to make you better." Emily felt the light draining from herself, her consciousness waning. She felt his hands on her face again. However, this time, it was like a shot of lightning through her; painful and hot. She cried out as a pulse of white light exploded from Emily's body, forcing the doctor's spirit to retreat and successfully knocking Emily out.

Emily was shocked awake by the sound of a gun blast and smashing sound. She looked over to see Dean lying on the floor with rips in his shirt and what she would assume was salt round powder all over the place. Her eyes moved to the shooter, Sam. In her haze, she believed she was simply hallucinating but, after closing her eyes a few times, she realized that Sam had been possessed, as it were. He was bleeding from the nose and saying the weirdest things; things that were amplifications of true events and actions. Sam had shot Dean. Emily struggled against her bonds, realizing her hands, legs, and chest were all bound by the good doctor. The restraints were too tight. She grunted softly and laid still as Sam looked over at her, smirking. "I'll be getting to you in a second." Emily closed her eyes and focused hard, taking deep breaths. Her arms began to glow, an eerie, yet relaxing, white glow. Her hands slowly began to shrink, any fat and muscle in them disappearing. She yanked her hands free her first chance and focused once more, her hands returning to something useful. She quickly undid her chest restraint and sat up to get to her feet just as Dean knocked Sam into unconsciousness. Her hands fumbled a bit with the rubbery safety cuffs but Dean made quick work of them as he came over to help. He briefed her on what was happening: The good doctor had been performing tests on the mental patients and tried to make them angry to the point that it cured them. The cop, and Sam, where just put under so much rage that they became potentially homicidal. "And you think the body is down here?" she asked, looking over his shoulder at the unconscious Sam. Dean nodded and began to look around the room. "I was attacked to, I'll warn you, but I don't think it worked on me. I don't feel different." She said, simply informing Dean to be on his toes just in case. She grabbed Sam's flashlight and started looking around, keeping low to the ground. "I saw a medicine cabinet earlier. It had the weirdest rust on it. It's somewhere over there." She informed him, standing straight. She wiped her forehead absently, pulling some partially dried blood away as her wound had already closed.

Her peripheral vision caught a shadow behind some curtains so she immediately shifted, facing that way. "Dean..." the whispered sound slipped across the room, beckoning Dean's attention. She motioned with her hands for him to look just ahead of her. She moved closer to him, knowing she only had a flashlight which, believe it or not, was not nearly enough to defend her against an angry spirit. Pulling one curtain open sharply, they found nothing but more curtains. Again, moving forward quietly, they ripped open several more shabby, disgusting curtains, finding nothing. He turned to look at Dean and shrugged her shoulders, looking behind her. She felt it then. That inexplicable chill that touches every inch of your being. The chill that happens as soon as a spirit enters the room. Emily grunted as she flew across the room, slamming into the wall high up, falling onto a white metal cabinet, and finally falling to the floor with a hard thump. She groaned and looked up, seeing Dean just getting up as well. She looked to her right, seeing the cabinet he had mentioned before. "Dean!" Without thinking about such things as, 'what if the body wasn't there' or 'if it was, how long it's been there', she whipped open the doors and was hit by the most foul odour that she had ever smelt. She reared back and fell onto her back like a turtle, gagging slightly as Dean ran over, being hit by the smell so hard he nearly fell over on her. Emily quickly composed herself and leaned down, grabbing the lighter fluid and salt she had strapped to her ankle. She passed the salt to dean and snapped open the lid on the tiny lighter fluid bottle, spraying it on as Dean threw salt at the disgusting corpse. Emily made a startled choking sound as Sam came up behind her, slipping his large arm around her neck and dragging her to her feet. Her hands immediately grabbed at his arm, instinctively trying to relieve that pressure. "You know too much about me and you always tell Dean before I would like. You just sort of came into our lives uninvited." Sam started to tell her what made him angry but most of the complaints were simple and repetitious. Emily composed herself once more and leaned into Sam, slightly lessening the pressure. Straining slightly, she kicked her right foot straight up, hitting Sam's nose over her shoulder, the sudden pain forcing him to release her. She turned on the ball of her foot and immediately assaulted Sam, not so much to hurt him but more to incapacitate him. It was just hard because Sam had such a high pain tolerance. He composed himself quickly, throwing jabs at her as well. Sam was strong but Emily was faster and smaller. Her hits wouldn't do as much damage but there were more of them. Finally, Emily dodged one of Sam's punches, took a bit of a running start and drop kicked him in the chest, taking both of them down. Emily landed on her hands, pushing herself back up before Sam could ever have gotten up from that. As he pulled himself to his knees, she moved over, kicking him swiftly in the face, knocking Sam out for the count. She looked over to Dean as the doctor positioned himself over him. Dean had the lighter in his hand, lit up with a brave flame. She looked down, scanning for Dean's shotgun. She rolled fast, grabbing it on the way, and looked up, firing off a shot. It didn't hit, probably because she was coming out of a somersault without aiming, but it disrupted the spirit enough to get Dean's hand moving, lighting the entire cabinet on fire. She watched as the spirit died away and locked eyes with Dean. She moved her legs so they were splayed out in front of her. She stroked a hand through her hair and caught Dean's eyes again. The both of them flopping down on their backs as if it were synchronized. "Oh god my head what the hell happened oh my god!" Emily's head picked up as she heard Sam's confused moans and groans. She smiled slightly, looking up at the rotting ceiling. "Emily had to put you down." Emily kicked Dean's foot. "God dammit, Dean. You didn't have to tell him!"

Emily sat on the hood of the Impala as the young girl leaned against it, the two of them sitting in silence as the brothers and the hard headed boy helped to seal the gates once more. Haunted or no, it was a dangerous building to be in. Her wounds had closed up but the bruising and damage was pretty evident. "How in the world did you get into this job?" Emily looked at the girl, surprised to see her looking straight at her. Emily shrugged slightly, looking to the boys and then back to the girl. "We flunked out of high school." Cheesy, maybe, but the girl looked scared enough that maybe she'd believe her. Maybe tomorrow morning or the next day, she'd decide that was bullshit but tonight, her grades were the most important thing in the universe. "If you don't want to find out about the things that go bump in the night, don't go into abandoned buildings at night and don't flunk out of high school. Got it." Emily smiled at the girl after she confirmed what she had learned tonight, the brothers approaching as they finished fixing. "May I recommend giving the boy another chance? Everyone has stupid moments." The girl nodded and Emily hopped off the hood. "Can't guarantee it will keep everyone out forever but it'll do its job for now." Emily smiled at Dean, and then to Sam. Sam looked a little worse for wear and just gave her a meek kind of smile, Emily returning it as she rubbed the back of her neck. As the kids headed home, Emily slid into the passenger seat before Sam could, causing Sam to give her a 'what the hell' look. "You tried to either strangle me or break my neck. I think I earned this seat." Sam frowned and slid into the back seat like a brooding young boy. "Well this will be a fun ride." She heard Dean murmur. She closed her door and turned to face him. Dean smiled slowly leaked onto his face. "Sam got his ass kicked by a girl."


	9. Scarecrow

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Scarecrow"

Emily looked up from her dazed state as she sat at the dining table across the room, seeing Dean's cell phone buzzing on the nightstand between the two brothers. She blinked, attempting to bring some clarity to her blurred vision in vain. Her rest time was coming, she knew it. "Dad?" Emily sat straight up as she heard Sam question the identity of the caller. Would John call? Out of all the times they called him or needed him, he picked now? Perfect timing considering they were all resting from this most recent job. Looking at Sam in the dim light, she could still see the dark bruises and small scrapes she inflicted upon him. He didn't seem to hold a grudge about it but she still felt a little guilty. However, all she had to do was remind herself that self-preservation, at this point, was of her utmost concern. She watched as Dean sat up, demanding the phone as Sam desperately tried to get John's location from him. She stood quickly, feeling slightly dazed as she gripped the table for support. Her body felt extremely heavy as if some unseen weight had been passed to her. She moved, trying not to show weakness, towards the brothers, Dean finally grabbing the phone from a frustrated Sam. Dean's original emotional tone quickly changed as he spoke to his father, the shift from concerned offspring to lieutenant very noticeable. She watched as he took down coordinates before the phone call finally ended, Sam looking at Dean in utter disbelief. Before she knew it, she was sluggishly rounding up her few possessions and hauling them into the car, Dean grabbing her bag frantically to hurry her along. She slid smoothly into the back seat and laid down slightly, sitting her head on her duffel bag of clothing Dean had thrown in. It wasn't long before an argument broke out but Emily was in a different reality, her subconscious, unconscious, and conscious minds all vying for control of her weak mortal body. She groaned softly, trying to stay awake. "Emily, are you alright?" The argument abruptly halted as Sam looked back at her. She opened her eyes as much as she could, noticing Dean's concerned expression in the rear view. "I'm just weak." In truth, she looked it. While normally she was fairly pale, her skin had taken on a ghostly tone, the soft lines of her face were now sunken and sleep lines had taken up lodging beneath her eyes. In the dim light of the motel, they couldn't have noticed. Her petite frame had become less powerful looking over the last few days as she slowly began to hunch over, as if her body couldn't take the weight on her shoulders.

For what she believed to be about an hour, the car sat in peaceful silence. To Emily, it wasn't tense but she chalked that up to her weak state. She had no doubt that Sam and Dean had words for one another but, she supposed, out of concern for her, they managed to hold back. Emily was then startled awake by Sam's voice, feeling groggy and disoriented. She hadn't even known she had begun to sleep. She felt the car pull over quickly and sat up weakly, watching Sam hop out of the Impala and move around to the back. She whimpered almost silently as Dean removed himself from the car as well, speaking with anger at Sam. Emily didn't understand what was happening but she moved and pulled herself from the Impala anyway. She braced herself against the car, the inanimate object providing a sense of comfort. Sam was walking away, only stopping as Dean demanded he did. It was becoming clearer as the younger Winchester kept talking about their father and where the phone call was made from blah blah blah. Just as both realized the argument was not going yield a winner, Emily felt that endless darkness clutch her tight. It began to seep into her vision, clouding her mind. "Dean." She whispered, the only word she could manage. She attempted to lift her small left hand to her head, her knees crumpling under her. She fell against the car but, before she could hit the cold pavement, she felt Dean come up to her and pick her up off the ground, cradling her petite frame against his. "I'm leaving Sam!" he yelled after his little brother before looking down at her. Her tired eyes looked up at Dean as the darkness crept in. "You must protect me." She stopped, too tired to justify her words. Too tired to go on. Still, she raised her finger and gestured to herself. "Vulnerable now." With no more words, her mind slipped and she fell into her restful state, a comatose like condition that left her looking dead.

Dean silently looked down at the woman in his arms. His mind was so conflicted it was hard to make sense of it all. He looked down the road, Sam's silhouette still visible in the distance. What could he do now? His brother had bailed, his father wasn't answering the phone, Emily had just slipped into a mini-coma, and he had a job to do. A frustrated half-yell escaped his lips before he moved around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door with little issue. He leaned down and slipped Emily into the car, gently moving her to sit comfortably. Not that she would notice, apparently. He had to keep her secret somewhere. He couldn't trust a hospital, or another hunter. He frowned and gently did up her seat belt, taking a moment to look at her. She was a beautiful woman, he mused to himself silently, thinking of the first time he met her. She had scared the crap out of him and Sam. "For such a small girl, you can really kick some ass." He commented to her, closing the door and moving around the car. Dean slid his body into the car and started her again, driving off towards his job, his mind stuck in a continuous loop of how bizarre his family was. He looked to Emily. Including her.

Emily lay peacefully beneath a large oak tree, the sun shining on her as she gently stroked the lush green grass around her. Flowers released their therapeutic scents, relaxing her down to her very soul. If she had one anyway. She sighed and opened her golden brown eyes, looking up at the sapphire blue skies. "I'm dreaming." She whispered, slipping her arms around her waist. "Yes." She paused softly. "Who are you and why are you in my dreams?" The world shifted around her until she stood before a mysterious being. She couldn't even understand the silhouette as it seemed to change shape constantly, making it difficult to figure out what it could be. "I am your other half. We will meet soon." And just like that, gone. She sighed and looked around. She stood on the wet sidewalk in a rainy metropolis. Across from a pizzeria, she held her thin coat closer to her, the pale lights flickering inside before shutting off entirely. She turned and headed down the street, the sidewalk warped and covered by many obstacles that she merely walked through. At first, it didn't seem weird at all since, in dream worlds, nothing seems truly odd until you wake up. She paused at a window, looking into the eyes of her reflection. The reflection shook her head and stepped into being, standing before the real Emily. "You have lost your goal and purpose. A shadow of your former self, your vendetta has become a foggy memory of those you once held dear." She looked around, seeing the stone chamber she stood in. Chains and shackles hung from the wall and different fungi grew from the damp stone. She turned to her reflection who had faded, revealing the shape of a young girl in a dress a few meters away. She turned her entire body, looking at the shapes of people that surrounded her in a perfect circle. A man in a suit, a naked woman, a young lady in bulky clothing. "Mommy." The sound seemed to come from everywhere, echoing louder and louder at her. Emily's head began to ache and she leaned down, clutching her head. "Mishka?" Emily opened her eyes, standing with one other person in white light. Emily stood face to face with the nude woman, the white glow that surrounded them making her face easy to see.

"I haven't gone by that name in centuries, mother." She whispered, moving to embrace the woman. She was tall, taller than Emily, but had the same features. Long dark hair that flowed to her mid back, golden brown orbs, a small mouth but a beautiful smile set beneath a small nose. Her skin was tanned but her body type was visibly more voluptuous than Emily's. Revelling in the imagined warmth of her mother's embrace, Emily looked up once more, smiling. "I have missed you mother." The older woman smiled and nodded back, gently stroking a hand through Emily's hair. "I know my sweet. I know. But you have a life now. You need to move on from me. From Angie." Emily looked down and away, moving her arms back to her sides. "Derek knows you tried your best." Emily looked up once more, a large waterfall in front of her. Without looking, she felt her nudity, the cold water suddenly triggering goose bumps to race across her flesh as her hands gently stroked through the waist high water. She felt pain on her back as it began to increase. She bent over, her forehead touching the water as she felt her skin split. She cried out and stood straight as wings made over pure white ripped out of her back, pulling her up and out of the water. She gently set her feet on the surface of the water, standing on it as if it were concrete. She wrapped her arms around herself, covering her exposed breasts but not out of shame or shyness. It felt natural to her, just as the wings, despite the pain, did. She looked up, the sun shining through the leaves of an overhanging tree as the wind moved its branches aside, allowing the sunshine to cover the piece of paradise with its full glory.

An enormous bolt of lightning shot across the sky, changing it to a night sky that was perfectly visible, the sheer amount of stars forcing her mouth open in awe. She looked to her left and saw Dean, holding a beer, looking up at the stars as well. She looked to her right and, slightly behind her, was Sam, also holding a beer. She looked at her hand, noticing the brown glass bottle there with its label ripped off. She moved her head to look up once more but stopped on a figure standing before her. John moved forward and slid onto the hood, moving between Emily's legs and laying on his back, looking up at the stars. She relaxed against the windshield of the Impala, taking a drink of the bubbly alcohol as she felt peace. For the first time in a long time, her heart, body, mind, and soul were completely at peace. She opened her eyes, expecting a new landscape, but was surprised to see the same starry sky, John's body resting between her legs, Dean's arm over her shoulder and Sam sitting happily by her side. Crystal tears slipped from her eyes out of happiness. She gently stroked her cheek, peeling skin off with a ring she wore on her index finger. She began to pull and peel, first at her cheek, then her head, then her body and surroundings. She pulled everything away until there was nothing left but her, standing in the blackest void. "H...Hello?" she whispered, trying to see in the darkness she moved forward, waving her arms in front of her, desperately searching for something. Anything. A crackling sound emerged from far away but Emily couldn't locate the source. Giggling, now, surrounded her, as if a dozen smiling children were playing around her. She blinked her eyes, checking to see if her eyes were simply closed or not. She realized then that all of the giggling originated from one person. The giggling disappeared suddenly as crackling sounds returned. Emily began to breathe heavily, sweat beads slipping down her forehead, tickling her face. Flames shot up from nothing a few feet in front of her, a deafening scream ripping through her like a knife, throwing her to the ground. She groaned as the knock hurt her arm and all went silent, an eerie cessation of sensation. "Mommy..." Echoes filled her ears as Emily curled up into foetal position, holding herself tightly. She shut her eyes tightly, shivering slightly. Warmth suddenly surrounded her as she felt safe once more. Light slipped in, as if awakening her from a long slumber. She gracefully moved from the warmth, opening her eyes to find herself flying over green fields towards a large oak tree, gorgeous butterfly wings delicately flapping behind her. She flew over a figure lying at the base of the tree to find it was herself, resting in a bed of green grass and fragrant flowers. She landed on a branch higher up and laid to rest, watching her figure as the discussion with the shadow began. Emily didn't see it before but, as a butterfly, she could see perfectly. It was a man. Her other half was a man who would meet her soon. She didn't feel shocked at all as she laid her head down to sleep.

Emily groggily awoke on a bed in a motel room, rolling onto her back slowly. She moaned a bit, her eyes heavy from sleep. She looked around the room, seeing another queen sized bed, retro decorations, cheesy wallpaper, and a television from, potentially, the 50s. What she didn't see, however, was Dean. And Sam. She sat up slowly, noticing that she was underneath the covers and her pants and bra were missing. "Please let that have been someone I know to do that." She whispered, stroked a hand through her hair. As her eyes cleared, she looked around again, picking up details she didn't notice before. There was a table in the far corner that was partially littered with fast food wrappers. Beside her bed was a nightstand with her phone on it. She leaned over and grabbed it, clicking the button. She noted the date was later in the week than she recalled falling asleep on. "Looks like my sleep is done, then." She whispered to herself, her stomach rumbling for sustenance. Despite her body's needs, she dropped her phone back on the nightstand and rolled onto her back, not having the energy to get up yet. She needed Dean to be there. She wasn't just vulnerable before and during the hibernation; she was weak after. As if cued by her thoughts, she heard the door open and looked up, seeing Dean coming in with a couple paper bags, chatting with someone. It wasn't long before the younger Winchester also appeared through the door, also carrying bags. "I certainly hope that's food because I don't think I can make it otherwise." She said, smiling. Dean and Sam looked at her like they hadn't seen her in years, causing her smile to widen. "I guess you finally decided to wake up huh?" Dean muttered, moving over to the bed. Emily slowly sat herself up, bringing the blanket up over her shoulders. Her body was inexplicably cold. She knew why but it was just overwhelming to her senses. "You know, you've been out for almost 78 hours." Dean sat on the edge of the bed, looking over her face with a concerned expression. Emily nodded towards her phone quickly, shivering beneath her covers. "I saw that." She murmured. Dean seemed to notice the shivering and quickly moved closer, pulling her, blanket and all, into his lap. "What's the matter with you?" he asked quickly, nodding to Sam. "I need to eat. My body is completely drained. It can't handle this." She whispered, clutching onto Dean who, in reality, was the best. She ducked her head against his chest, feeling his body heat seep into her. "Sam, she's freezing cold. Grab her something to eat. Anything." Dean demanded. She heard Sam's hurried footsteps moving away but then returning. "We don't have any more food! You ate the last burgers." She felt Dean stand with her still cradled against him. "Can you run out and grab her something?" he asked, quieter now. He moved slowly across the room as she heard Sam run out the door, closing it behind him. "I'm concerned that you're more trouble than your worth." Dean teased, sitting down on the floor. She looked up at him, slightly confused as to why he sat on the floor, and watched him reach over. With ease, he turned the furnace on a high setting, the dry hot air hitting her like a god send. He held her tight, causing Emily to smile. "Thanks Dean." Emily just sat in Dean's arms as they waited for Sam to return with some food for her.

[[Voila! Another AMMMMAAAZZIIIINNNNG chapter. Totally. Anyway, thanks for reading! R & R, wouldya? See you on the 21st! – Ichi]]


	10. Faith

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Faith"

Emily slipped a large blade into her boot as Sam passed her a tazer, checking the voltage and the 'on' light before nodding to them and running to the house. They didn't have long, those kids, with that Raw-head in there. Despite the heavy sound of their shoes, Emily still turned her head slightly to look, their comforting presence giving her the extra strength she needed. Having just experienced her rest, Emily was now almost mortal in the human sense. She felt weaker and emotions ran more rampant in her then she had felt in a long time. As they entered the building and made their way towards the basement, Dean took point, a move that, considering the last couple of weeks, didn't surprise her at all. Since her sleep, Dean seemed to always be watching her and putting more stress on keeping her out of harm's way. It frustrated her a bit but it was cute too. She understood that she looked Dean's age, if not younger, and she knew Dean must, sometimes, get caught up in her looks to determine her age. It was cute. Emily's mind refocused, realizing she was getting off the topic at hand. Raw-heads required full attention, and she knew it from experience. The wooden stairs creaked under the pressure of their feet, sending out eerie echoes to alert their prey they were here. Emily much preferred a silent entrance but you can't win them all. She held up her tazer, investigating one side of the basement as the brothers split off into another side. She swept her cluttered corner with a light, seeing movement just about everywhere, she felt. She was paranoid, a not-so wonderful symptom of mortality. She noticed that there were no rats or bugs of any kind that she could find. She broke from that thought as Dean hissed at her, her turning as they opened up a decrepit cabinet, pulling out two children. She hurried over and helped the children up, grabbing one of their hands. Sam beat her to the stairs with the other child, hurriedly grabbing the other to get them up the stairs faster. In a second on the stairs, something tripped Sam up, bringing Emily down on top of him. She pointed her tazer between the stairs but Dean fired first, hitting nothing but the wall. "Go Sam. Go!" she yelled, pushing his butt off the stairs as she raised herself off of him. Sam threw his tazer down to Dean and Emily jumped down off the stairs, landing in a low crouch, looking beneath objects for feet. "Emily, go with Sam." She heard Dean's tone, identifying it as authoritative rather than suggestive. "I am not having this discussion Dean." She whispered, standing straight. She held her tazer like a pistol, eagerly wanting to finish this job so Dean and her could have a nice chat.

She felt a change in the air for a moment, a stirring she didn't notice before. She felt the Raw-head before it even got close to them. She heard Dean grunt and turned, the creature knocking her tazer out of her hands, almost destroying it as it landed right beside a pool of water. Emily moved into a combative stance, quickly lunging and assaulting the boogeyman. While there was little effect, she hoped it would give Dean time to regroup. She leaned down and grabbed her knife out of her boot, spinning beneath the outstretched arms of the malevolent being. She stabbed twice, once hitting in the abdomen and another in his upper thigh. The hit to his leg, however, only lowered him down, allowing one massive blow to Emily, sending her across the room. She yelped as she hit the wall hard, the wind getting knocked out of her. As she fell, her head hit a table, making her vision a bit blurry. She moved herself up a bit as Dean distracted the Raw-head from her. It all happened so fast. Dean was disarmed thrown into the pool of water. "DEAN!" she screamed as he pulled the tazer trigger, effectively killing the boogeyman. She watched as he convulsed as the electric currents passed from the creature through the water into him. She got to her feet in record time, running to his side. She pulled him out of the water, looking down at his lifeless face. "DEAN!"

Emily looked up as Sam entered the hospital room, continuing to stroke Dean's hair, being very wary of all the wires that traced Dean's vitals. She sat behind him in the hospital bed, him sitting between her legs, resting his head on her chest. Sam couldn't maintain eye contact with her, just as she couldn't with him. Tears welled in her eyes just thinking about the grim news. She slipped her right hand above Dean's heart, hearing the irregular beat. She stifled a sob as she felt the damage, his body radiating a dying light. "Have you ever actually watched Daytime T.V.? It's terrible." Emily smiled slightly, turning to Sam once again. "This is all he's been talking about." Sam managed a tiny, barely noticeable twinge in the side of his mouth. Dean's attention finally pulled away from the television as he looked up at Sam. "Well, looks like you guys are going to leave town without me." He said, surprising Emily a bit. It wasn't out of character but it sounded like he actually expected them to leave him. "We aren't going anywhere." She whispered, gently hugging him around his neck as Sam reaffirmed the exact same sentiment. Sam demanded then that he stop talking like he was going to die, asserting that they had options. Emily looked at Sam with the same soulfully sad eyes as Dean. She wished she could be as optimistic as Sam. She wasn't the praying type but he prayed for strength to see Dean through this. Sam then pledged to fix the situation and left the room in a hurry, heading back to the hotel, leaving Dean and her alone. "You guys should leave." He strained after a few moments of silence, coughing slightly. She sat her chin on his head and frowned. "Never. We're too stubborn for that kind of thing." She paused for a second. "We will never leave you." She sniffled slightly, trying to keep her distress silent. A tear slipped down her cheek, landing on Dean's hospital gown. She felt his hand touch her arm, realizing that she was still hugging him. "Please don't cry, Emily." She rested her cheek against the top of his head, just sitting in silence with him. He had done this for her after her rest. Cared for her. The non-descript noises from the hospital corridor brought her back to reality, her eyes looking out into the dreary weather.

"What did you expect me to do? Tackle him?" she yelled back at Sam, standing in the doorway with Dean as he weakly made his way inside. Sam looked at her disappointed and she just glared right back. "In case you haven't noticed, Dean is hard headed. He just wouldn't stay in the hospital." Her gaze was drawn to Dean as his opinion was voiced. "Why would I stay in a hospital when the nurses aren't even hot?" As Sam looked back to her, she raised her hand as if saying 'And that's what I'm saying'. Sam shook his head and went back to his desk, Emily shutting the door behind her and peeling off her coat. "I'm going for a shower." She said, tossing her coat on a chair, nearly slamming the door to the bathroom. She undressed quickly and hopped in the shower, shutting off her raging mind for the ten minutes it took to wash her hair and clean her body. She slowly got out of the shower, savouring this time alone. While she loved being around the brothers, it was tough sometimes. Especially because she was a woman. She sighed, missing the days where she could prance around in the nude whenever she liked. While it wasn't a daily thing, it was something that could be missed. She wrapped a towel around herself and looked up at the mirror. Large dark spots were beneath her eyes and her skin looked hollow and splotchy. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a month. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore these seemingly selfish thoughts but, despite Dean's serious situation, she just couldn't. Again and again she tried to subdue her thoughts but all it led to was pent up frustration. She turned from the mirror, moving away. She pivoted sharply and smashed the mirror with an open palm jab, slicing her palm open and receiving a few more cuts on her hand. She sighed, knowing that they probably heard that, and looked at the cut on her hand. The skin closed up, slowly at first but then faster and faster until all that was left was a light red line. She tightened her towel and turned once more, opening the door and stepping into the room, grabbing her back pack of clothes. She looked up to see both of the Winchesters looking at her intently. "What? I didn't bring my clothes in." She said, standing straight. Dean looked towards the bathroom as Sam looked back at his computer. "What happened to the mirror?" She looked at the older brother, his sickly form almost making her heart collapse. "There was a bug." She said quickly. "I got it." Dean, naturally, didn't believe her. He wasn't dumb enough to. "So, I think I found something." Emily looked up at Sam in shock and disbelief, the idea that anything could help Dean seemed so unrealistic. She hurried into the bathroom without a word and emerged not more than thirty seconds later, zipping up her jacket over a light green tank top and some dark blue jeans. "Let's go."

Emily pulled herself out of the car about the same time Dean did. She leaned against the hood and looked at the makeshift tent. "Faith healing?" she asked, looking at Sam oddly. She had investigated thousands of cases like these over the years. While she didn't believe Sam was ignorant or naive, he seemed to believe in the power of faith. She shut the car door as she moved away, gently slipping her arm around Dean's waist, supporting him. She had watched his condition deteriorate during the drive and all she could do, really, was pray. She sighed as Dean openly disbelieved in the practices, the only logical action at this point for him. Emily knew he must have been scared, not just by his impending death but of false hope. She felt Sam was giving them all false hope, though he probably didn't mean to. "You've been awfully quiet, Em." She looked up at Sam, who seemed to tower over her and shrugged, looking forward once more. Dean commented on his disbelief in perfect time for a beautiful young woman to turn around. She introduced herself as Layla, forcing Emily to naturally think of Derek and the Dominos and one of her favourite romance songs. She loved the mindset of Eric Clapton when he wrote that song. She recalled hearing somewhere that he said he loved that woman until he had her and then it disappeared. It truly symbolized and embodied what Emily believed was love: Fleeting. She had never felt romantic love in all of her years, having always kept everyone at arm's length, but she had seen it. Affairs, divorce, et cetera. At least for humans, they only had one lifetime to deal with it. Had she experienced what most humans have to, she would have dwelled on it her entire life. She looked at Dean's face as he spoke to her, no matter how briefly. He thought she was attractive, that much was clear. Dean, she supposed, was an exception. He seemed to be capable of so much love, romantic and not. As Layla moved inside with another woman, this one older looking, so did Sam, Dean, and Emily. Strengthening her hold on Dean's waist, Emily simply followed Sam who sat them near the front of the room, forcing Emily and Dean to roll their eyes simultaneously. Sam moved in first with Emily moving carefully and sitting beside him, putting Dean on the aisle. She released him as they sat and positioned herself comfortably, crossing her slim right leg over the other. She felt Sam lean down to her in order to whisper something. Before he could even utter a word, Emily turned, putting their faces about an inch apart. "I have never seen one of these things work. I hope I am wrong." She said as she turned back to the front, watching as the preacher, a blind man, was helped onto the stage by his wife.

Emily smirked as Dean was overheard by the blind man, looking down slightly and covering her mouth with her right hand, gently patting Dean's leg with her left. Then, he was called onto stage. Emily looked up with wide eyes, Sam quickly reaching over her and pressuring Dean to get to his feet. Finally, she would see the truth. Dean, with some displeasure, moved to the front of the room and got onto the little stage. Emily's hand slipped into Sam's as she laced her fingers with his, squeezing a bit. This was the only moment they had been alone since the accident and she knew they both needed a bit of comfort right now. She felt Sam's big hand envelope hers and watched events unfold before her. Her eyes widened as the preacher, Roy, placed his hand on Dean's head. She felt her heart flip flop a bit as hope bloomed in her chest. However, it wasn't long before a dark presence leaked into her mind and her stomach began to flip flop instead. She squeezed Sam's hand tighter, forcing him to look at her. "There's something wrong." She whispered quietly, looking around the room. Dean then fell to his knees beneath the hand of the preacher, Emily holding Sam in place. Then she saw it. The wisp of shadow that revealed a form in between the worlds. Emily couldn't peer in between the world of the living and the world of the dead all the time but, knowing something was off, she mustered her mental strength and focused. Still, the figure was faint and dark. It could be anything. It could be the goddamn boatman from the river Styx for all she knew. Just like that, it was gone again and Dean collapsed to the floor, forcing both Sam and Emily to their feet, their hands breaking their bond as they ran to the stage, Emily crouching beside him. He seemed bewildered and confused but lively. His sickly pale flesh had become more healthy looking and his energy seemed to be returning. They had to get him to a hospital. "There is no way." She whispered, looking up at the preacher who was smiling to his followers. She looked to Sam as they lifted Dean up, practically running from the tent.

Emily sat beside Dean on the hospital bed, her head on his left shoulder, as they waited for the results of additional tests on his heart. "I can feel it, Dean." She murmured. He looked down at her as she lifted her head to look at him. "Your heart is no longer broken." Dean seemed surprised for a moment before looking down. Emily opened her mouth to say something but the doctor came in before she could. His heart was perfectly fine. All the tests had confirmed it. However, the doctor shared a thought concerning the death of a man of similar age to Dean involving his heart. As she left, Emily noticed that Sam seemed completely content with the results while Dean shared her dread. She knew something was off about this faith healing and with the information about this odd death; there was something at work here. Sam seemed eager to put this town in the rear view but Dean had a feeling. A dark feeling, as he described it. "It felt cold. And for a second... I saw someone. It was a spirit, Sam." Emily stood as well, looking to Sam. "I told you before Dean was healed that something was wrong. And I saw something too. It was a wisp of darkness. I didn't see it very well." Sam looked at both of them in utter disbelief, as if they were ungrateful for Dean's new lease on life. "I was there too, you know. If there was something there, I'm pretty sure I would've seen it too." Luckily, Dean was a very convincing individual and they quickly divided up jobs for research. Emily would accompany Dean to Roy's home and Sam would look at the death of the man the doctor mentioned.

Roy had a very moving story, and that was the truth. Surviving such a high level of cancer, and making a full recovery to boot. It was a true miracle... One that Emily didn't believe in at all. Emily felt that Dean was being pulled in by this entire thing, especially as Roy mentioned what he had seen in Dean's heart. She gently grabbed for his hand, reminding Dean of where he was and what was happening. She caught the eyes of Roy's wife on her and looked straight at her in intense eye contact. The woman just smiled that pleasant smile. Emily didn't trust either one of them and chose to break eye contact, eagerly leaving as Dean became satisfied with the answers he received. She released his hand and moved down the stairs, noticing Layla. "Hello there." She greeted, smiling. Dean did as well, hurrying into a conversation with her. Emily stood to the side, awfully wary of the older woman, Layla's mom, coming up the stairs. She looked up at Sue-Anne, Roy's wife, as she looked down at Layla, greeting her. She seemed very 'all-powerful' to Emily but, then again, it may have been the paranoia talking. As Sue-Beth refused them entrance, Layla attempted to diffuse the antagonistic personality her mother seemed to have for Dean. While Emily managed to stay silent, there were a few moments where she nearly inflicted harm upon the older woman.

It wasn't long before Emily arrived back at the hotel with Dean, stripping off her moist leather jacket. Sam looked like he had just been part of a funeral as she sat down with her back to the window, Dean approaching, asking what he had found. There was silence for a moment that Emily thought would last for an eternity before Sam spoke with a sombre, quiet apology. "I'm sorry, Dean." Emily's eyebrows furrowed together as she pondered the meaning of his apology. Dean looked crushed as Sam explained that the man who died, Marshall Hall, died at the exact same time as Dean was healed. And, for every person healed by Roy, there was a corresponding death at the same time. Roy was trading a life for a life. Dean was enraged, as he stood from the table, veiling his anger fairly well as he repeated that Sam should never have brought him there. For a few moments, Dean fumed out loud until his hunter mind took over and they all reasoned as a group. "I just don't understand how he's doing it." Sam murmured, looking from Dean to Emily. "He isn't." Emily asserted, looking up at Dean. "You know what's doing it." Dean nodded slightly and leaned over the table as Sam looked back and forth between them. "What then? What's doing this?" Dean sighed swiftly and loudly. "There's only one thing that can give and take life like that. We're dealing with a reaper."

They all sat at the table, researching Reaper lore as Emily pored over an ancient-looking text she had slowly accumulated. It was huge but at least Dean and Sam's questions concerning her limited clothes selection and giant duffel bag had been answered. "So you think we're dealing with the grim reaper?" Emily shook her head and Dean vocalized her thoughts, showing Sam examples of lore from all over the world. "In my travels, I've encountered Reapers. There, from what I understand, is one granddaddy Grim Reaper but there are millions of reapers in existence." She looked up from the book to see both Dean and Sam staring at her. "What? I've never had to kill one before. They preserve natural order...Generally. I would never harm a reaper." Dean leaned over a bit, drawing Emily's gaze. "What language is that in?" Emily looked down briefly and smiled. "Sumerian." Emily paused for a moment. "What? I'm old!" she exclaimed, frustratingly burying herself in the book. Dean and Sam took a moment but eventually hopped into their own conversation. Emily didn't really start paying attention until Dean suggested killing Roy. He looked up at him oddly as Sam firmly stated they weren't going to kill a human. "Don't even entertain the thought Dean. That is not a path you want to take. Trust me." She stated, looking from him to Sam and then back to her book. Dean looked to both of them in a huff. "Ok. We can't kill Roy and we can't kill Death. Any bright ideas, College boy?"

Emily looked up sadly at Dean as he had to interrupt Layla's healing. He clearly didn't want to do it but he couldn't let Roy kill that protester to heal Layla. She watched people evacuate the tent as Dean hopped on his phone, finding out from Sam if it worked. At first everything seemed ok. Dean's expression was calm and Sam's voice, from what she could hear, was steady. Suddenly, there were two voices yelling. Sam started yelling that the reaper was still coming at David and Emily immediately started looking around. Roy was already out of the tent. Who was controlling the damn thing? Dean saw the wife first and they ran over to her. Dean grabbed her arm and spun her around. In her hands she held a crucifix similar to the one Sam had mentioned, this one small, fitted to a necklace, and blood red. It took moments for Sue-Beth to start screaming for help as she tucked the charm away. Dean and Emily went quietly, the police officer practically lifting Emily off the ground and being unnecessarily rough. They practically threw her around outside until Sue-Anne, the oh-so-innocent preacher's wife established that she wouldn't lay charges. Emily took her leave as Layla approached, looking for Sam.

Emily frowned as she looked over the 'dark bible' in the hotel room, lying on her stomach on one of the tiny beds. "This is amazing." She murmured to herself, flipping through the pages, realizing just how strong this magic was. She hadn't seen much of this in the 20th century and beyond. "Roy's healing Layla tonight. We've got to stop them." Sam looked to Dean who seemed fairly apathetic to the idea of stopping the reaper before Layla was cured. However, with a brief argument, the three embarked on an adventure. It was time to stop death.

"Sam!" she yelled as he attempted to get out the sealed cellar door. Sue-Anne was on the other side, spouting off her righteous mission, gone completely insane from power. It crossed her mind that despite the fact that they had destroyed the altar and when they destroyed the crucifix, what were they going to do with Sue-Anne? It wasn't like she couldn't just do it all over again. However, the more pressing concern was escaping from this basement. As Sam rushed to meet her, she gestured to a boarded window beside them. Erratically, they both searched for something to break the window down with. Sam spotted a wood board first and smashed the window open. Emily hurried over and Sam grabbed her legs as she pulled herself up, gently cupping her bottom for support. Despite the desperate situation, Emily stopped and looked back at him. "Geez. You could at least buy me a drink first!" Sam made an exasperated sigh and pushed Emily completely through the window, then climbing out as well. "I have to find Dean. He's the next target. You break the crucifix!" With that, Emily ran off into the dark rows of cars and vehicles, trying to find the evasive Dean who was already hiding from the cops. A few frustrating minutes passed as Emily's fear began to tighten her chest. She heard the tent fall silent, forcing her search to become choppy and desperate. "Dean!" she hissed, looking beneath cars for feet as she ran through the water-logged field. Finally, she found Dean. She ran from the cars and looked to her right, seeing Dean standing there and the lights blink off in front of him. She was almost too late. She focused and saw the wisp appear, taking a fairly noticeable form but she couldn't see it clearly. She closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her right hand into a fist. A faint purple aura appeared, that she could see, though she knew humans couldn't perceive it. Slowly, it changed to a molten red. Focusing hard, Emily ran as hard as she could, closing the ten feet of space between them within seconds, and slammed her charged up hand into the face of the reaper. Dean's surprised expression was worth her weight in gold. She looked to Dean briefly and then back to the reaper who, now, was as clear as day. "Oh shit." She whispered, Dean frantically searching for the form. She had single-handedly made herself a target for an angry reaper. After an instinctive step back, the reaper reached for her, placing a frigid hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, silently accepting that she would die defending Dean. Her heart was at peace with her decisions. She had no regrets about the decisions that had brought her to this exact point. However, after several moments, she opened her eyes. The reaper was simply standing there, looking confused and frozen. Slowly, he pulled his hand away and Emily nearly crumpled to the ground in relief. The reaper just stared at his hand for a few moments before looking up at her. She cringed again as he lifted his other hand, throwing her into a lamp post. The light flickered back on, as if her body's impact had shaken it alive from near-death. She watched as Dean was forced to his knees. She watched his skin and eyes go pale. She watched him gag for air. "Dean!" she forced, slowly standing. The damage had been done but her body was healing already.

Emily ran to Dean as he fell back on the ground, his skin and eyes returning to normal. She looked up at the shadow of the reaper who, once again, looked confused, if not relieved. As he disappeared, Emily hugged Dean around the neck, laughing slightly. They had both survived at the hands of death. Dean grabbed her arm and laughed a bit too, slowly moving to stand. Emily stood as well and they both looked around. "You see anything?" she asked quietly. She couldn't sense the reaper nearby but she felt it on the fringes of her mind. "No..." Dean sighed heavily and leaned down, putting his hands on his knees. "Man, I was sure that reaper was going to kill you for that." Emily paused for a second, realizing Dean hadn't seen the encounter. "Yeah... I thought so too, for a second." Emily appeared to be on a higher state of conscious thinking. Before Dean could comment, she turned quickly and suggested that they find Sam, walking ahead of Dean towards the tent with a weakened Winchester in tow.

Emily giggled as Sam closed the door behind him, leaving Dean and Layla in the hotel room together. "Should we give them 15 minutes?" she joked, smirking at the floor as they just kind of loitered around, lazily sauntering through the halls. She looked up at Sam who had an award winning smile on his face. "How did you fight off the reaper?" The question was so sudden that it knocked Emily off her game. "Fight off? I didn't really fight him off. I just kind of hit him once." She said, shrugging. She looked to the floor and then back to Sam's expectant expression. "What? I don't know all the secrets of my species. As far as I know, I am the only one of my kind. All I did was focus on keeping Dean alive. My usual attack just kind of changed and adapted to fit the circumstances." Emily stopped then and brought her right hand closer to her face. "I wish I had more answers right now. It seems like whenever I get close to humans, I want to know the secrets of myself. More than ever, I want to understand why that reaper put his hand on me but didn't kill me." She looked up at Sam, having revealed to him what she hadn't even told Dean. Sam sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Maybe you should just have a little faith." Emily laughed and gently elbowed him in the stomach, turning as the door to the room opened and Layla came out. She smiled and nodded to her, the action reciprocated, just as Layla turned down the other hall.

[[Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Due to the complete lack of impact Emily's character has on the story, I intend to skip 'Route 666' to 'The Benders'. I wrote the chapters and realized they sucked a lot so I refuse to unleash that crappy character placement on my pleasant readers 3 So, I'll see you in two weeks with 'Shadow' – Ichi

PS; Don't forget to review! 3]]


	11. Shadow

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Shadow"

Emily smiled politely to the landlord as she left, closing the door firmly behind her. She turned and frowned, unzipping the top of her blue jumpsuit and pulling it off to her waist, wearing a white tank top beneath it. "Well this is interesting." She murmured, looking at the blood stains as she moved into the other part of the apartment. She could help but think of how ridiculous the brother's looked in those outfits as well. It just made her laugh. As Dean and Sam began to scour the apartment, Emily crouched down to get a better look at the blood stains on a large white rug. They didn't seem as blitz-like as the others. It looked controlled. Emily looked up towards Dean as he began to describe the young female officer he chatted up, going a bit further than Sam and her wanted to go. Simultaneously, Sam and Emily said his named firmly, looking at him significantly. "One thing was left out of the papers. Her heart was missing." Emily frowned and stood as both brother moved back towards her. "Her heart?" Sam repeated, as if to ensure the information he heard was correct. "Well, since the landlord said it looked like an animal attack... With the heart gone, it looks like a werewolf." Emily stated, shrugging slightly. She looked to Sam who nodded. "But I don't know of any werewolf that wouldn't leave a trace. Or be able to pick locks and disarm alarm systems." Emily then looked to Dean whose eyes had been drawn to the blood stained rug as well. "Do you see it too?" she asked curiously, turning around as well to look at the stains.

Emily helped Dean lay the black electrical tape, standing on the opposite end of the rug as the brothers as they finished, forming a bizarre symbol. Sam briefly asked Dean if he recognized it before asking Emily. She looked up and shrugged slightly. "It rings a bell but I do not remember encountering this ever before. Maybe I saw it in a text somewhere." She murmured, moving around. She stood beside Sam behind Dean, looking at it from a different perspective. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find. I'll scour my textbook and you guys can take the internet."

Emily sat with Sam at one of the small tables, perching herself on the stool and leaning against the table. She turned to see Sam pulling out the newspaper articles. "Sam. You're going to look like some kind of freak with those splayed out on the table." She warned, looking at him seriously. She turned as Dean sat down, looking happy as a clam. Sam mocked him slightly, asking if he had gotten anything besides her number. Of course Dean got her number. Was there a woman alive whose number he didn't have? Dean quickly defended himself by stating that there wasn't much to learn about Meredith from her work place. Dean then turned to her. "Find anything on that symbol yet?" The question itself was directed at both of them so Emily turned to Sam. "No. Not in Dad's journal—" "Not in my text either." "—So we'll just have to dig a little bit deeper, I guess." Emily frowned. "There is no apparent connection between the victims besides how they died." Emily said, frowning as she leaned back in her chair. "So the only information we've scored is the bartender's phone number." Emily snickered a bit at Dean's comment and looked to Sam who was now distracted by something behind Dean. She turned her head as Dean did, saying 'what' in unison with him.

Emily stood at the bar as Dean approached her. "Ouch. That was harsh." Having seen the girl across the bar, Emily had chosen to not approach her like the brothers did. Something about her made her skin crawl. "Who's she?" she asked as Dean took a shot. He seemed just as confused as she did. "Maybe she's one of Sam's college friends. Doing a cross country tour or something." Something in the pit of her stomach told her she was wrong. She frowned and shook her head. She was just being ridiculous. After Dean's dance with death, she was just overly protective now. She didn't want to lose either of them. As Sam left, Dean and her followed. The blonde pixie didn't even notice her and, from Emily's perspective, she was very unassuming. As they got outside, Dean, whose feather had been ruffled by that girl, immediately began defensively questioning Sam. He was frustrated with the small discussion they had. Emily couldn't quite hear it so she didn't bother commenting at all and simply walked behind them quietly. It didn't take long for Dean to default back to his horn dog mind once Sam assured him that he didn't feel like Dean treated him like luggage. Emily shook her head and frowned slightly. "There is something off about her. I thought so too, Sam. But I can be wrong. Maybe you're just assuming things." Sam looked like she had just kicked his puppy. She wasn't trying to take sides but it seemed like he thought she was on his. Then, he just divided up duties again. "How about you guys look to see if there is a Meg Masters from Andover, Massetuchets and try to dig up information on that symbol. "What are you going to do?" Sam seemed to weigh his words for a brief moment. "I'm going to watch Meg." Emily smirked and started walking away. "I'm leaving!" she said, Dean following as he teased and mocked Sam.

Emily laughed quietly as Dean instructed Sam to invite Meg to a poetry reading "or something" after explaining that she is a real person. She thanked the person on the other end of the phone and hung up, setting her phone on the table. She finished scribbling some notes in the book and passed the notebook over to Dean. Standing and moving away from the table. Her timing was impeccable as Dean went into explaining what the symbol meant. She turned and looked at him in disbelief as he said he had not only found it himself but found it in a book. She rolled her eyes as Sam forced him to correct himself and explain that it was Emily who had called Caleb. She moved to a makeshift clothes line above a radiator and felt one of her shirts, pulling it off the line after she found it was dry. She moved back over to the bed as Dean started suggesting Sam strip for Meg. "Oh my god Dean!" she said firmly, looking at him in disbelief. He seemed jarred as Sam hung up on him. "You are unbelievable!" she said, stripping off the white tank top that she had been wearing for who knows how long. "That kid needs to loosen up." She turned and saw Dean leaning back in his chair, looking at her. "Geez, take a picture why don't you?" she said, smirking. She unclasped her bra and tossed it towards her bag. "Why are you so unashamed?" he asked very suddenly. She turned her head as she pulled on another bra. "Despite my scars, I think my body is pretty amazing. Why be ashamed? Besides, having lived for as long as I have, this little thing your culture has against nudity is just silly." She clasped the bra and turned as she prepared to pull the top back on. "However, I don't want to freak you or your brother out with my 'private bits' so I generally stay turned around." She slipped the cotton tank over her head and down over her stomach. "Besides, you and Sam feel like siblings to me. It's just...I'm comfortable around you two. If it bothers you, I won't do it anymore." She sat beside him and smiled. Dean seemed to take it all in and nodded slightly. "I think this is the first time an extremely attractive woman told me our relationship would be platonic and I was fine with it." Emily and Dean shared a laugh as she leaned onto the table. "So, back to the Daevas..." Emily murmured, stroking a piece of hair behind her ear. "How do you want to go about finding this player?"

"Dude. I need to talk to you." Emily's eyebrows raised as the brother greeted each other with the same comment. She closed her text and sat it aside, wondering if what Sam had found out was as surprising as what they had. She leaned forward on the bed to listen closely. Sam unravelled a tale about Meg being the player who was summoning that daevas but she was answering to an even bigger honcho. "God dammit." Emily hissed. Sam looked at her but she only nodded to Dean who moved in front of the computer on the table. He had found out from that cop that both victims were born in Lawrence. Emily immediately stood. "If that thing is coming to meet Meg and it has ties to what happened to your mom..." Emily looked to them. "We've got to kill it."

Emily strapped her knife sheath to her leg and pulled her jeans over top of it. She looked as Sam came through the door with what looked like the entire trunk contents as Dean finished leaving another message with John. Emily approached the table as Sam confirmed that he had grabbed almost everything. Emily sorted through it briefly, getting an idea of what was in there. "You didn't bring my grenade launcher." She stated, smiling. "I am seriously hoping we don't need a damn grenade launcher, Em." She shrugged to Sam and began to strap on little holsters that slipped under her clothes. Comprised mostly of Velcro, these were really handy for jobs where you didn't know what you needed. She slipped a couple small blades into them, looking up to see Dean looking at her. "How come you always have blades instead of guns?" Emily shrugged. "Guns are a new thing to me. I'm far more comfortable and skilled with knives than I am with guns." Sam seemed eager as they began preparing weapons. It wasn't long before Sam voiced his plans to return to school once they killed the thing that killed Jess and their mom. Dean was visibly upset and when that anger and frustration surfaced, Emily stopped, putting her hands on the table as they honestly told each other the whys and whats of the road trip. Finally, Sam told Dean he didn't want things to be the way they were when they all hunted together as a family. Emily wished she had left the room because this was not her place to be here for this discussion.

Emily was the first out of the elevator shaft with a large duffel on her back. She silently moved across the room and hid behind a pillar, spotting for the brothers and ensuring Meg didn't see them. She held a gun trained on her, nodding for them to climb up. She moved back with them, crouching behind a large pile of broken boxes and furniture. The brothers swapped for shot guns but Emily stuck with her pistol. Everything was going great until Meg told them hiding was childish. She sighed as Dean made a little joke and stood, keeping her gun on Meg. Despite her general jovial nature, Emily was focused and ready to kill right now. The three moved closer to Meg, the eerie feeling she gave off being magnified by every step closer. "Who are you waiting for, Meg?" Meg's head turned to Sam as she paused. She was particularly dramatic. "You." Emily inhaled sharply as the air changed. She wanted to keep her eyes on Meg but her sight was pulled way by shadows on the wall. She couldn't even get a word out before the daevas were on them. The sound of flesh tearing is surprisingly unpleasant despite how often you hear it. It hit her from behind, slashing her hard down her back. The forced turned her as she fell as one swipe barely missed her eye as it passed vertically over it and another sent her flying into the pillar, bleeding badly from her stomach and back.

Emily forced herself awake, her eyelids weighing tons, as she heard Dean speaking about why she wouldn't just kill them yet. She took in her surroundings, realizing she was tied to a pillar with Dean and Sam was also tied to a pillar across from them. "This trap isn't meant for you." "Dad" Emily's exhausted brain managed to keep up as Dean's hand, brushed hers. The trap was for John. "But I don't know how much he'll want the damaged goods in the back there." She heard Meg, looking up as she approached. "Kiss my ass." She murmured smiling. Meg smugly smiled down at her and then moved onto Dean. She wasn't going to get a rise out of her. Despite the fact that Emily's condition was pretty extreme. She could feel the blood running out of her. She shut out the world then and focused. It hurt a lot but the extra energy she poured into healing paid off as she felt her back heal up. Her stomach was next and she barely bothered with her face. It would heal itself soon, now that the larger, more life threatening wounds had been sealed. Still lacking energy, Emily opened her eyes, seeing Meg coming on to Sam. She felt Dean touching her wrist and she moved accordingly, feeling him slip a small knife from one of the weapon holders she had on. Of course Dean had to clatter it all over the place, bringing Meg bck over. She smirked at Sam as Meg disarmed Dean, seeing Sam's hands at work as he severed his bonds as well. As Meg returned, Emily pulled out another blade and cut away the rope around her hands. As Sam head butted Meg and ran for the altar, Emily quickly cut Dean's rope and the three hurried to the window where Meg had been thrown to the ground by the daevas. As Dean cracked another RIDICULOUSLY HILARIOUS joke, Emily turned away, heading back for her duffel bag. She threw it over her shoulders, seeing Dean behind her. "You ok?" Emily nodded briefly but Dean still came closer, gently putting his hand on her face beside the cut. "Did you want Sam to stitch it?" he asked, looking at her eyes once more. "No. It'll be healed soon." They smiled at each other as Sam approached and Emily extended her smile to him. "Time to get back to the hotel, I think."

Emily was practically pinned between Sam and Dean as they opened the lock on the door and talked about the car. "Jesus, Sam. Any closer and you'll be inside me." She commented, feeling Sam back off. Dean snickered a bit but then grew serious once more as they walked inside. "Hey!" Emily turned immediately to who Dean was rudely greeting. She pulled out her pistol from where she tucked it and pointed it up, Sam switching on the lights as John came into view. "Dad?" Emily lowered her pistol and looked to Dean and then back to John. Dean moved across the room and hugged his father hard, making Emily smile a bit. She moved with Sam over to John. "Hey John." She loved when he smiled at her. It was so warm. "Emily. I didn't think you'd stick around." She hugged the elder Winchester gently as he wrapped his arms around her. She smiled as he pulled away and focused on Sam. She moved to Dean's side, opposite Sam, and just listened at the exchange. Her heart nearly broke when Sam and John finally hugged, a gesture that was long in coming. She looked up at Dean who looked like he had been completed by bringing his family together once more. She sighed happily as the pulled from each other. Her and the Winchesters. One big happy family. She yelped loudly as she was dragged away by a daeva just as John was thrown across the room. Sam was hit next and then Dean. Claws dragged down her legs, shredding skin and jean alike. Blood poured from her thigh readily as she was thrown against a wall, pinned there. She looked over to John as he was screaming, seeing him being tortured, as they were, by daevas. She was thrown near Sam, landing partially on the duffel bag he was carrying. She quickly looked through it, just as Sam noticed she was there. She stumbled upon a flare and connected eyes with Sam. She screamed as she was dragged away from him but managed to toss him the flare. After Sam cracked the flare, she felt the daeva disappear. She grunted as Sam grabbed her, lifting her to her feet. He leaned to grab the duffel as she began to cough from the smoke. They moved along the wall and finally made their way outside, Emily beaten up far worse than any of the men. The only thing she was wearing that wasn't shredded was her jacket.

Sam threw the duffel in the back seat and slowly lowered Emily into it, earning strained cries from her. There was hesitation in leaving as everyone came to grips with John going his separate way. Dean made an excellent point in that John really was more vulnerable around his sons. She watched in agony as Sam was forced to let John go without him. She sighed as they got into the car, Dean helping her get fully in the car and closing the door for her. There were a few moments where regret hung stagnant in the air before they actually took off. At least they knew John was alive and well. As they were driving off, all three remained silent and Emily meditated, healing herself. "Want to work a little of that magic hoodoo on us when you're done?" Emily popped open one eyes and smiled at Dean in the rear view, The wound across her chest closing up. "I can try."

[[I really loved this episode so I tried to change as little of it as possible. I'm also having an issue with a future chapter. I have written two different versions but I cannot decide which to post. So I'm hoping you, the readers, will give me your opinions: Should I post my favourite version or both of them? – Ichi]]


	12. Hell House

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Hell House"

As Emily spoke to the young girl who had been in the house, she physically felt her IQ slipping several points. If this girl said 'like' once more, she was going to smack her. She leaned on her hand, feigning interest as the girl slipped from the topic onto one that she seriously didn't care about. Dean and Sam knew she didn't like teens but there didn't seem to be a way around it. There it was, 'like' again. Emily stood, literally intending to strike the girl. She felt Sam's hand on her shoulder and looked back at him, his small expression coaxing her aggression into gentle dislike. She turned back to the girl and introduced Sam as her co-worker, another journalist who was researching local folklore and mysteries. The girl, clearly smitten with Sam at first glance, began to talk like there was no tomorrow. Emily smirked and hopped from the table, going to get a drink and leaving Sam to the mercy of teen girls. At the counter, the chubby boy Dean was talking to stopped short of what he was saying and practically began salivating. She quirked an eyebrow and just ordered a medium cola. She turned to Dean and smirked, looking back and directing her gaze to Sam who looked as though Emily had kicked him in the 'nads. "He's probably getting more information than I did." She attempted to justify it and turned back, paying for her drink.

"Well, that was damn near useless..." Emily murmured, sipping from the red-striped straw as she stepped into the record store. She stood behind the brothers, looking around, looking for someone named Greg or Craig. She didn't know or care. He was another snot-nosed teen that she didn't want to deal with. Luckily, Sam and Dean took the initiative, identifying him quickly. The lanky teen was pulled in by their cover as Emily looked through albums, her fingers moving easily over the edges to flip through them. Her dislike of teens seemed to be rubbing off on Dean as he began to comment flippantly, also looking through records now. Sam's acting was damn near hilarious but she got the feeling the kid was acting to. She stopped looking through records as they moved to the register. By this point, she knew he was faking it. She didn't comment because, what was the point. But he wasn't scared of that place. As they left the record store, Emily turned to throw her empty cup out, taking a moment to look back at the boy. She didn't like him too much.

Emily pocketed her hands as she hiked beside Sam up the muddy trail, her black boots and the hem of her blue jeans becoming heavier and heavier as they became caked in mud. "I don't think the record store guy was being completely honest with us." She muttered, avoiding a larger puddle. Her boot slipped a bit on the mud but Sam was quick to grab her arm supporting her briefly as she regained her footing. She, like Sam, looked around the outside as Dean struggled to get an EMF reading. She looking up at the power lines and point up, Dean nodding to her. "They must still have some juice in them. They're messing with our readings." The three headed inside, Emily still extremely skeptical about the whole thing. "So, the ghost from the 30s is into spray paint and tagging?" she asked quietly, looking at some of the symbols. "Here's an Egyptian funeral glyph." She murmured, tracing out what should have been an intricate and beautiful symbol. Instead, it was a watered down shadow of what it should have been. As Sam and Dean moved on, Emily couldn't help but stick around, looking at the symbol. "If I was Egyptian, I would be offended." She murmured, scowling slightly. She moved on without a second glance. "Either of you ever seen this one before?" Emily hesitated before turning, looking at Dean and then to the wall in front of him, an odd cross-like symbol with hook on the bottom. She moved closer as Sam did, coming up on Dean's right side and Sam his left. "Looks familiar but I don't remember any culture that uses that." She muttered, Sam commenting on how he had never seen it. Dean seemed to find it familiar. "Careful Dean, don't hurt yourself." She joked as he went deep into thought, trying to remember where the symbol had been in his life before. Sam leaned forward and touched the substance that looked like un-drying blood, determining that it was paint that was recently put on there. Dean moved away, bringing Emily's eyes to him from the wall. "I honestly don't think this is anything, guys. I agree Dean. Maybe the cops are right this one time." She stroked a hand through her thick brown hair, pushing it to the back of her head.

As if they were paranoid, a sudden clatter from another room drew everyone's attention sharply, Emily suddenly grasping her pistol in her shoulder holster. She moved quietly to a door leading to the offending room. Sam and Dean flanked it while she stood in front, ready to draw her gun. The copper rounds would at least delay the spectre. They burst through the door, coming face to face with insanely bright lights. Emily managed to not flash her piece as she realized it was just a couple of kids, a little older than the ones they had been talking to before but still just kids. She shielded her eyes and frowned as the hairier one said 'cut', as if it were a movie. She released the handle of her gun and settled her hands on her hips, looking at the two 'intruders' expectantly. "What are _you_ doing here?" Dean came back with, such an elegant and original comeback. "We belong here. We're professionals." Emily quirked her eyebrow at that. "Professional what?" Dean asked, as if legitimately curious. _'Morons?' _ Emily smirked at her internal monologue, having managed to rein her comments in today. "Professional paranormal investigators." He said it as if they were supposed to know it, handing them a card as well. Emily leaned over to Dean to look at the card. "Zeddemore?" Emily asked, looking at the hairy one. He moved forward, making her look appalled. "Zeddy, for you." He grabbed her hand and barely landed a scratchy beard kiss before she pulled it away, Dean chuckling quietly before walking between them, effectively separating them. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck near Sam. She was going to strike these boys hard and fast if their little pompous attitude didn't cool off. "What's an EMF?" Emily looked away, hiding her face behind Sam. These guys thought they were just looking for thrills and whatnot. This was downright hilarious. She stifled her laugh and looked forward, feigning curiosity. The scared-looking one came forward with a surprisingly well-maintained EMF reader. Her shock wasn't faked and she regretted that the bigger one had seen it. "Impressive, huh?" She couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Then, they told a story of _hearing_ something move by itself. "Yeah, ok, we got it. Can we go now?" she turned and stepped out of the room. "Don't be too shy to call a real paranormal investigator." She turned to violence the hairy one but Sam stopped her, just pushing her out the door. "Unreal."

Emily stood up from leaning on the Impala as the brothers came around the corner. "Didn't find anything, huh?" Sam shook his head, acknowledging what she had believed. As Dean moved around the car to the driver's side, Emily leaned down to grab the handle for the back seat, Sam, gently holding her wrist, indicating to wait. She did as Dean suggested they find a bar and then slipped into the car. She looked up at Sam oddly, seeing that goofy grin on his face, and opened her mouth to say something. The car radio blasted with happy-go-lucky music before she could say anything. She sighed and smiled, leaning her forehead against the car, finally opening the door and slipping in. Sam seemed mighty pleased with himself but Emily tried to stay neutral, not wanting to get involved at all. "Is that all you got?" Dean asked, Emily shaking her head. "And what about you?" Emily looked up, at first seeing Dean eyeing her in the rear view mirror before he completely turned to look at her. "Whoa! I'm not getting involved in this at all." She said, holding her hands up as if she was surrendering.

Emily stayed crouched beside the brothers in the dark, looking at the cabin for some weak point of entry that the cops weren't covering. "I can't believe we missed something..." She had been beating herself up all day about that girl, and the brothers had seen that. She heard twigs breaking and looked beyond Sam to her left, seeing those same two guys from before. "Unreal." Dean stood slightly and projected his voice, a small blurb from the Ghostbusters' theme song. She laughed as the cops ran out after them and hopped up, running inside with the guys. They hurried in, shutting the door silently behind them. Sam passed her a flashlight and a smaller shotgun, which she checked briefly for the cartridges of rock salt. They didn't waste time heading down to the basement, Emily taking point while Dean took the rear. She checked her flanks and moved forward and to the right, Sam moving to the left, as Dean went forward towards the racks of jars. He then tried to dare Sam to drink from one of them. "Dean, that's nasty. Put that down." She whispered, frowning at him. As they heard some noises from her side, Emily brought her weapon back up, Dean finally putting the mystery substance back on the shelf. They moved towards a little cabinet, Dean and Emily standing in front as Sam popped the doors open, revealing rats. Emily didn't make a move or sound as the little critters ran out. "Dean, stop being such a lady." She murmured, looking up at the cabinet as Dean murmured that he'd prefer a spirit to rats. She sighed and pulled the muzzle of her gun back, leaning it over her shoulder. There was a sudden change in the air that made her look back, her instinctual stomach flips kicking in with a vengeance. She gasped and wheeled, forming a line with the brothers as she pounded the rock salt into the ghost to no avail as it attempted to kill them with an axe. The thing finally disappeared as Sam demanded to know what kind of spirit was immune to rock salt. They made a break for an escape, running behind the jars and shelves. Following Sam closely, the axe wielding ghost destroyed the shelves, throwing Dean to the ground and showering Emily with glass, causing a few nicks and scratches that healed quickly. She pulled Dean up as Sam tried to take on the spirit, blocking the axe with his gun. Emily ran up the stairs first, followed by Dean and then by Sam. They exploded out of the door, Emily falling ass over tea kettle into a somersault before standing right in front of the Ghostbusters' camera. "Get out of my way!" she demanded, pushing them aside as she ran for it, following Dean and being followed by Sam. The cops nabbed the boys but she couldn't care less. The cold night air was the biggest relief she had felt all night as she ran her hardest for the tree line and, eventually, the Impala.

The record store kid, Craig, looked like hell as the trio walked in, earning his attention. It didn't take long for Dean to interrogate him but the kid broke like a dam, spilling his guts about the entire thing being fake and how his cousin and him had dressed the place up to look haunted and play a prank on some of his friends. Emily couldn't help but kind of feel sorry for him. He blamed himself entirely for that girl's death. While what he did was stupid, he WAS just a kid and kids do that kind of thing all the time. Emily frowned and gently tapped Dean and Sam's arms, leading them out. She heard Dean mutter something over the anonymous rock band playing over the store radio. "If it's all made up, how do you explain Mordecai?"

Emily sat away from the beds as Dean came in, looking up briefly from her book. She watched Dean bee-line to Sam's clothes, pulling out a little packet. "Dean." She hissed, frowning. He turned to her sharply and 'shushed' her, making her roll her eyes and go back to her book. Dean announced himself to Sam who then started yelling through the bathroom door about what Emily and he had found out. They guessed he was a Tibetan Tulpa.

Emily hopped up on one of the stools at the coffee joint, setting her four baggies of sweetener and creamers in front of her. She removed the lid and began to methodically pour in the ingredients that practically made her coffee, well, not coffee. She looked as Sam awkwardly positioned himself and couldn't help but giggle a bit. They discussed the existence of the Tulpa as Sam moved around awkwardly, straining in his pants as, what she assumed was itching powder, began to drive him nuts. "Well, if they can change his weapon and appearance on the website, couldn't we implant a weakness?" she asked, looking from Sam to Dean and then to the computer. "Come on, let's go." Dean stood quickly, forcing Emily to cover her concoction and stand as well. When it came to coffee, Emily much preferred to take her sweet time. She stood up and looked at Sam who was practically flailing around. "I think I'm allergic to the soap around here." Dean just started laughing as he walked away. "You did this?" Sam was pissed. Emily laughed slightly too, sipping her coffee. Sam caught up to her first, making her look at him. "You couldn't have warned me?" he demanded, frowning. She shrugged and grabbed the handle for the door to the Impala. "If I'm not allowed to warn Dean, I'm not allowed to warn you either. I'm not taking sides here."

"Nice action figures." She commented snidely as Zeddy and Harry came to the door. "Action figures in their original packages. Why doesn't that surprise me?" Emily and Dean were like two peas in a pod on this job. "Look, we need you to shut your website down. Now with all the people looking at it, it's more likely that people will start showing up at the house, meeting Mordecai in person." Harry seemed to get it, since he did look like the brains of the organization. Or what little there was. However, Ed shut him up with one word, pulling him into his opinion easily. Sam and Dean then put on their elaborate show for the boys, one Emily refused to be a part of. She would have rather just trashed their equipment. After all, she wasn't exactly subtle. As they turned and walked away, so did she, moving out in front of them. Finally, after begging and bargaining, Ed and Harry managed to stop the Winchesters. The three turned and looked at them expectantly. "We need your absolute word you'll shut the site down." She said, backing up Sam's statement. They pulled out a fake death slip, an elaborate forgery Emily was proud to say was her handiwork. "They say if you shoot him with a .45, with these special rod iron bullets..." Dean made a poof sound following her statement. "It'll kill the sonuvabitch."

Emily sat in a booth next to Sam with Dean across from them. Since they had gotten there, Dean had been pulling the string to this laughing man...THING. It was the most annoying thing he had done in a long time. "You pull that string one more time and I'm going to kill you." "Not before I get to him." She murmured, looking at Dean dangerously. She forked some of her food and slipped it between her lips, chewing quietly as Dean pulled the string once more. She looked up at him, holding her fork up. "I have a stabbing weapon, Dean." She commented, allowing the heavy tines to correct the direction of the utensil so she could eat once more. Sam showed Dean the new website, suggesting by nightfall, they should be able to kill Mordecai. The two clinked bottles as Sam began to laugh. She looked at him oddly and then back to Dean whose hand was now stuck to the bottle. Emily covered her mouth as she started to laugh, hard. "Oh my god." She murmured, Sam holding up and displaying the super glue he used. He laughed quietly and pulled the string to the laughing man, laughing along with the object. "Don't do that."

Emily watched as the cops were distracted by that damn laughing man in the woods. She had wanted to burn it but, instead, they used it as a distraction. "I still say lighting it on fire would've done the job." She commented, sliding along the side of the house with her pistol. They let themselves in and all went back to back, looking at all corners with their flashlights. They moved into the room where the basement door was. "You think ol' Mordecai is home?" Emily breathed in deeply, preparing herself for the adrenaline as it pulsed through her system. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins and hear her heart beat like it was thunder. The door burst open behind them, the god damn 'paranormal investigators' appearing behind them. "Can I just shoot them already?" she exclaimed, pulling her weapon out of their faces. She heard a slicing sound from the basement and turned, pointing her weapon at the door as the brothers did. "You guys want to open that door for us?" Emily rolled her eyes, hissing, in unison with Dean, for them to do it themselves. Mordecai took his cue and burst through the door, Emily, Sam, and Dean pouring rounds into him until he disappeared. "Why didn't it work?" she demanded, looking at Dean. The brothers turned to the amateurs as Emily moved out of the room, looking for the Tulpa.

She hurried back into the room as she heard all that manly screaming, seeing that the Tulpa had almost killed the scared one, Harry. "Did you guys post that BS story we gave you?" "Of course we did but afterwards our server crashed." Emily looked at the two with an odd mixture of apathy and bewilderment. "God dammit." She hissed, tucking her pistol into the back of her jeans. "Got any bright ideas Sam?" Emily looked to Sam as well, hoping he had a wonderful idea. The two younger men decided they would leave and headed to the front. Emily frowned and moved closer to Sam and Dean for a brainstorm when she heard some yelping. Her and Sam took off, Emily beating Sam to Mordecai. The Tulpa had the boys cornered in a dead end hallway and the hairy one was yelling 'The Power of Christ Compels You' at it. "Hey!" she yelled, announcing her presence. She pulled off her leather jacket and held up her fists. "Come at me, you ugly sonuvabitch!" she demanded, the Tulpa immediately turning its attention to her. She dodged a swing of the axe, jabbing at the form. For the most part, a strong Tulpa could take physical form so she figured why not try. The connecting hits seemed to affect it but not enough to continue. He swung hard and hit the wall, Emily pummelling his torso with hits as he loosened the axe head from the broken boards. Sam, behind her, tried to get the kids out but he couldn't with the Tulpa standing there. She caught the handle of the axe, fighting with the Tulpa for it. But, she wasn't strong enough. Mordecai literally lifted her off the ground, pushing her against the wall with the axe at her neck. "Get out of here! Now!" She heard Sam but was too focused on the near death experience she was having with Mordecai to fully process the meaning of his words. She heard the hurried steps of Harry and Ed and then Sam came over and forced him off her, yelling for Dean. As Mordecai recovered, Dean came around the corner with spray can and a lighter, warding the Tulpa off temporarily with fire. Sam lifted Emily right off the ground and ran towards the door, stopping with Dean. "If he can't leave the house then we burn it down." Emily looked at him surprised as he threw the lighter on the floor, the floor catching instantly. They ran from the flames, Emily still cradled in Sam's arms. The brothers came to a stop in the tree line, Sam allowing Emily to stand on her own two feet. She gasped for air, her neck in a thousand worlds of hurt. "Pretty ingenious, Dean." She struggled to get out, coughing slightly. Sam didn't seem satisfied with the decision but, hey, it would hold temporarily. Sam looked at Emily as she stood up straight, still holding her neck. "Why did you run to those guys' rescue?" Emily smirked. "As obnoxious as they are, I protect people for a living. And that won't change any time soon."

Emily stood beside the boys as Ed bragged about this movie deal they had managed for themselves, her neck now black and blue. "Sorry that we couldn't have something special, babe." Emily cringed slightly at the following wink and shook her head. "Come back over and I'll give you both an Irish Kiss." She threatened. The two finally climbed into the car and drove off, leaving the three of them in the dust. The three walked back towards the Impala, just as Sam leaned over slightly. "I have a confession to make: I'm the one who called them." Dean laughed loudly as they reached the car, Emily chuckling as well. "Yeah well, I'm the one who put the rotten fish in their back seat." Emily and Sam laughed again. As they slid in the car, Emily leaned forward. "I put super glue on their seats." The three shared a laugh as Emily finally got in on the prank war. "Truce?" Emily looked to Sam and then to Dean. "Truce." Emily smiled pleasantly. "Until next time." She joked, leaning back as they drove off.

[[I find the Ghost facers to be hilarious characters to just rip into. It's fun to write chapters with them in it. Review! – Ichi]]


	13. Something Wicked

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Something Wicked"

Emily sat in the backseat of the Impala, as always, listening to the unending bickering between the brothers. While they all were generally good as a team, it was impossible to work, live, and travel with the same two people all the time and not get annoyed. Especially when you're rushed out of bed after JUST getting to sleep. This whole sleep/no sleep thing was really getting to her. She didn't understand how humans managed it sometimes. But, she knew that, in just under a month, her body would completely adapt to the new situations and she'd be able to sleep like Sam and Dean. She sighed loudly, forcing them to momentarily stop and look back at her. "Maybe Sam doesn't like getting rushed around for what appears to be nothing." She said, gesturing and looking at Dean. She pivoted her torso and made the same unmoving gestures at Sam. "Maybe if there is a job there, it's been written off as unusual circumstances or mundane chance." She leaned back and rubbed her eyes. "Now can both of you cram it?" she asked, her body flopping against the seat. Dean smirked and nodded. "I guess it doesn't matter. I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing." Sam looked at him in disbelief while Dean slapped a sly smile on his face and Emily leaned forward, resting her arms and head on the seat.

Dean passed her the red cup full of coffee as she sat on the hood of the Impala next to Sam. "Here's your cup of sugar with a bit of coffee thrown in." She bowed her head slightly to him as he passed her a stirring straw before looking back at the park where she had been before, removing the lid to gently stir her caffeine. "Unless the local Freemasons are up to no good, you're right. There's nothing here." Dean moved to get back in the car but Sam's words stopped him as he asked for the time. "What's wrong with this picture?" Emily then noticed it too. She had been a bit sleep deprived before but why was a park so empty at 4.10p on a school day? "That's...Weird." She turned to Dean who nodded and headed towards the lonely parent in the park, trying to get the scoop. "You think something is actually happening here, Sam?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee. "Maybe."

Emily straightened her suit jacket, the skirt she had on a bit too tight for her liking. She could feel eyes on her, burning through her clothes to her skin. "God, I hate you two." "Dean, I am not using this ID." "Making me wear a damn skirt." "Why not?" "And a tight one too." "It says bikini inspector on it." Dean pushed Sam towards the nurse's station and walked with Emily aside. "What's wrong with the skirt? You have great legs." Emily's mouth just kind of fell open at the randomness of the comment. "First off, ew. Stop complimenting my legs. Secondly, I haven't worn skirts since the 60s." She looked down behind her at her heels. "And my feet are already killing me." She looked to Sam, whose forced smile turned into a deep frown as he faced them. "It's upstairs. Follow me." Emily just shook her head and laughed, following him through the hallways. As they neared the paediatric ward, Dean stopped at someone's room, looking in on the patient. Sam and Emily both looked at Dean oddly, urging him to hurry up so they could figure out if there was a problem or not. Well, their type of problem. For the kids' sake, she hoped it was.

Dean observed Emily out of his peripheral vision as he and Sam discussed the nature of the illness, the symptoms, how it moved through families, and what have you. Emily looked withdrawn and distant as she observed the children, like she was wrapped up in a cocoon. He was afraid that drawing her attention would spook her like a deer in headlights. "Why are there three of you?" Dean sharply looked at the doctor, realizing his tone wasn't confrontational so much as curious. He drew a blank on the question, just as he assumed Sam was. "I'm a specialist with pneumonia and lung related illnesses in children and young adults. I'm just here to support the team in any way I can." The lie seemed to slip from Emily's mouth with ease as she rejoined them, shaking the doctor's hand pleasantly. Perhaps, Dean thought, Emily's quiet manner was similar to that of a sleeping cat. One who was ready to pounce at any second. As she released the good doctor's hand, Dean noticed the tiniest twinge on her face, like something was off. He doubted the doctor had seen it because it was so small and so quick. Emily, however, wouldn't meet his eye. Instead, she just returned to observing the children through the glass. The older Winchester began to piece together bits of information he had about Emily as Sam suggested to Dr. Highdecker that they should speak to the parents in regards to the activities the children had been doing prior to the illnesses. Dean was barely present though, lost in his own thoughts. Emily seemed to be this way around children and he couldn't get his mind off of it. Every sane person out there had a soft spot for children, that's why they were generally never harmed in horror films and things like that. People, in general, just don't want to see kids getting hurt. But for Emily, it seemed to be more, to delve deeper into her as a person. It would explain the sadness on her face, that's for sure.

Standing in the little girl's room, Emily felt extremely uncomfortable. Frankly, she had broken into thousands of homes over the years but this case seemed to hit close to home as she looked for clues rather robotically, moving very stiffly. At least she was back in her jeans and tank top. She stopped looking for clues and tucked her EMF away in her pocket, tying up her chocolate locks into a high ponytail. "You ok there, Em? You've been acting kind of funky since the hospital." Emily just shook her head and continued, not really wanting to get into a discussion about her emotions right now. "You were right." Emily looked to Sam at the window. "That wood is rotten." Was all Emily heard as she moved closer to the two, seeing the black handprint of rotten wood. "What makes a hand print like that?" Emily looked to Sam and then to Dean who definitely recognized the print. "He hunted it before. He sent us to finish the job." Dean looked between them very seriously and Emily simply nodded to him.

"Shtriga are particularly rare, Sam. It's not completely unbelievable that you wouldn't have heard of it. But if John hunted one, why did he omit it from his journal?" she asked Dean curiously, standing at the trunk of the Impala. Dean shrugged off hand as he threw Sam's stuff to him, heading inside. Sam followed him quickly, as curious as a young boy. She pulled out her duffel bag from the trunk and slung it over her shoulders, closing the trunk before moving inside as well. "Two queens huh?" Emily looked at the little boy who seemed scared straight at the sight of her. "Yeah, two queens." Emily smirked, figuring the boy was insinuating Dean and Sam were gay lovers. She watched as the older, snide boy went to tend to his little brother as his mother came in and then looked up at Dean who seemed to slip into a walk down memory lane while looking at the two. She looked back at them and smiled, remembering how John used to always say he could trust Dean to take care of Sam when they were boys. She smiled slightly at the thought and looked back at Sam, who simply looked confused.

Things seemed to be escalating faster and faster. First, Asher, the younger boy at the hotel, had fallen victim to the shtriga. Then after further research, Sam and Emily had found an old photograph from the 1890s featuring their very own Dr. Highdecker, who had aged surprisingly well. Emily sat on one of the queen sized beds, pressed up against the headboard with a couple of pillows in between her and it. She was just as surprised with Dean's restraint in the children's ward of the hospital as Sam was but chose not to voice it. "So...How do we catch this thing feeding?" she asked, trying to bring the testosterone in the room back down to a manageable level. "We need a plan or this thing will escape and these kids will die." Dean turned and motioned for her to join them, forcing her off the bed and to the counter. "Well, this thing works its way through families, right? Well, last night..." "It hit Asher." Sam murmured, finishing his older brother's sentence. "So it's going to come after Michael." Sam and Emily locked eyes. "Well we've got to get him out of here." Emily nodded in agreement but Dean simply said 'No'. Emily and Sam both looked at him surprised. "You want to use him as bait?" Emily was surprised at this shift in Dean; it was exceptionally frightening. "I'm not going to dangle this kid in front of this thing like a worm on a hook!" Sam exclaimed, forcing Emily's head to lower slightly. "This isn't about you Sam! This is about me. It's my fault. I screwed up." Emily's eyebrows furrowed together as she looked up towards Dean. "How is this your fault?" Emily felt her heart rate quicken in anticipation of his explanation.

Dean's story was kind of heart breaking to Emily. It seemed that John treated his eldest like a lieutenant when he treated his youngest like a son. One mistake, one nearly fatal mistake on the part of a child almost had Sam dead but John didn't treat it like it was a child's decision. He treated it like an adult who knew the true nature and danger of what John did. Dean still seemed broken up about it. "It wasn't fair, Dean. Your father should know it wasn't fair to put those expectations on you." Dean looked at her and shook his head. "No. I should have known better. I should have listened." She and Sam were now sitting on opposite sides of him. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, knowing she couldn't change his mind, no matter how hard she tried. "A shtriga fed on me, once. Maybe I could stand in as bait." She looked to the brothers who looked at her intensely. "Fed on you? When? When you were a child?" Emily shook her head. "No. I was hunting something else at the time. I'll be damned if I can remember what it was. But it got the best of me. It fed on me for weeks until I killed it." She stroked a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "You killed it? After it fed on you...How did it feed on you for weeks?" Emily shrugged. "I am, for the most part, an immortal being. My life force just keeps replenishing itself again and again and again. It was only by chance I managed to find a suitable weapon." Dean frowned and shook his head. "This shtriga feeds on kids and kids only. Otherwise, it would've come after you already. Look, I don't like it but this is the only assured way to get it."

Emily sat at the table in the apartment after an extremely unsuccessful attempt to bring Michael on board with this whole thing. "You couldn't ask an adult to do this, let alone that poor kid in there." Emily nodded at Sam's comment, bring her knees up tight to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Her head shot up as a knock resonated from the door. It seemed so loud in the silence. Dean opened the door to reveal Michael, looking torn. Emily stood and moved over to Sam's side, looking at Dean and the boy. "If you kill it, will Asher be ok?" When Dean looked to them, Emily gave a slight smile and a shrug. They might as well be honest. "Honestly, we don't know." That thought seemed to rattle around the boy's head for a little while. "So, you're a big brother. Would you do anything for your little brother?" Dean confirmed that he would, lighting up Emily's heart just a little bit more. She looked up at Sam, who also seemed moved by this confession. "So would I. I'm in." Emily inhaled deeply and smiled at Michael happily, as if silently congratulating him on his choice.

Emily hooked up the audio sensors in Michael's room quickly and efficiently, leaving just as Dean and Michael began to speak to each other. He moved into the other room with Sam, sitting beside him. "How're the audio taps?" Sam silently passed her one of the sets of head phones and, together, they silently listened to Dean talking to Michael. He was so warm and attentive to Michael's concerns. It was, legitimately, an entirely different side to Dean that she had never seen before. While he had cared for her after her rest, this was similar to a paternal side of him. It was genuinely moving. After Dean joined them in the other room, hour after hour passed as though it would stretch on for eternity. They weren't really talking all that much. Dean was staring holes through the screen as Sam listened in and Emily sat some ways back, cleaning her weapon. Finally, three o'clock rolled around, the only reason she noticed was because Dean asked the time. She looked at her slim watch and frowned, refusing to believe the shtriga would change its pattern now. "The only reason it wouldn't come tonight is if it were onto us. And, if it is, we've already lost it." She said quietly as she stood, looking out the window. The brothers had a hushed conversation really briefly until she noticed the lights were flickering in the parking lot. "Guys..." she whispered, turning and quickly moving towards the screen. Everyone seemed to lean in, then, their big adult heads taking up a lot of room. "Look at the window." Dean whispered, gesturing to a hand-shaped branch that appeared to be moving. She cocked her weapon as the window moved up, ready to run into the room in a moment. Dean held them back, waiting until the shtriga got close enough to feed. As they burst through the door, Emily unloaded an entire clip into the wrinkled creature once Michael was clear. She released the empty clip and shoved another one in, never taking her weapon, or eyes, off the monster. "Michael, you ok?" The boy's response was such a relief to her that she breathed a deep, but silent, sigh. She remained near the door as Dean moved to confirm the kill and Sam moved to the foot of the bed to back him up. For a few tense moments, Dean stood over the corpse of the creature, waiting for some kind of movement to suggest whether it was alive or not. Dean and Sam lowered their weapons after a few moments and Dean looked towards them. In a flash, the creature was up, grabbing Dean by the throat. Casting Dean into the wall, Emily's gun raised once more, pounding bullets into the creature, despite knowing it wouldn't work. Next, it went to Sam, disarming him and casting him to the other side of the room. Finally, it sped to her, knocking her gun from her hand and throwing her against the wall, her body flopping like that of a rag doll. She gasped in pain as she landed on the floor, her knee taking a solid hit. She rolled her head and saw it making a move towards the scared young boy under the bed. She couldn't quite get to her feet so she ran the foot and a half on all fours, tackling the shtriga and pulling him away. The damn thing recovered too fast for her to cause any damage. The shtriga mounted her then, and leaned down, its mouth opening with a bright light. She gasped in shock as it began to drain her, feeling her energy seep out of her. It wasn't like before. She was mortal-like now. A weak plea for help strained from her mouth as her grasp on the shtriga's wrists weakened. Her hands fell away as the darkness engulfed her vision, putting her into a coma like the many children in that town.

Dean watched through hazy eyes as Emily's hands fell away from defending herself, her skin ghost white. The shtriga then moved to the weakened Sam but, with a simple shot to the head, he put it down. While Sam recovered and pulled himself together, Dean moved over, laying a few more rounds into the creature while he could. He then turned, seeing Emily's pale form lying motionless on the floor.


	14. The End

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"The End"

Dean's pacing had begun to get the best of Sam, having been with him for almost three days with Dean's behaviour being like this. After they killed the shtriga in Fitchberg, Emily hadn't returned to normal. Sheer ignorance led them to believe that, with a bit of rest, she would recover like the children. They had packed up her stuff and gotten into the car, assuming she was just sleeping it off. But as the hours wore on, Dean had pulled the car over and found that Emily was not waking up. Again, they couldn't take her to a hospital, and this was different from her predicted sleep. Sam leaned back from her, sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair right beside the bed where they had laid her a couple of days ago. They had removed her jacket but nothing else and had brought up the sheets to cover her torso but left her arms out. The brothers had taken turns watching her and getting food but they were running out of options. "Dean!" Sam finally snapped a little and glared at his older brother. "Stop pacing. It isn't helping and it's driving me nuts. Go grab a pizza or something. It's her favourite. May it'll snap her out of this." Dean didn't argue and, instead, just grabbed his coat and left the room silently. More than anything, Sam had noticed how Emily had managed to move into Dean's life. She had become like family over these short months. Sam frowned and sighed, leaning forward once more. She had become like his sister as well. She wasn't hard to love, that was for sure. She had the same spunkiness all the Winchester men had and was a rarity in their world. She knew things, had seen the world before it was anything Sam could imagine. He wanted to just ask her questions, like a small child. She made him feel like a curious young boy, and he couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

Slowly, Sam began to notice the distant thudding of a headache coming on, an all too familiar pain that had become a predictor for horrible thoughts and visions. He stood and moved away from Emily's bedside, aiming to get a glass of water. However, as he moved away, the ache dulled away until, by the time he reached the tap, it was gone. He paused for a moment and placed two fingers at his right temple, the tell-tale vein not protruding and straining with blood. He turned to look back at the room, confused for a moment. Perhaps it had simply been a regular headache that just kind of went away. He looked at the calm figure of Emily and took a step closer, the ache slowly returning. He paused, feeling it creep into his head. He took a step closer and the pain increased. Stepped back, it went away; moved forward, it magnified. Sam stroked his hand through his hair, looking at the floor oddly. What the hell was happening? "Sam..." His eyes shot up at the sound of Emily's voice but only saw her laying there as she had been for the last little while. It seemed like an echoing whisper on the fringes of his mind. He moved forward slowly, accepting that the headache was inevitable. "Emily?" The brunette didn't move at his call. "Listen to me." Sam stopped, frozen in place. She sounded clear as day. But she wasn't conscious. He touched his head gently, the blood beginning to rush faster. Finally, in several swift strides, Sam covered the distance and sat beside her once more, the headache furiously attacking his body. He paused briefly and looked at her hand as if it was the most bizarre thing he had ever seen. Slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it on hers, darkness suddenly engulfing his vision as he collapsed against the bed, his head resting on her stomach.

Sam looked at the sky, the brightest blue he had ever seen. He scratched his head briefly, wondering where he was. He knew he had just gone to Emily's bedside and yet, here he was, standing in a courtyard. The grass was lush and stones had been intricately placed to form a path leading from what seemed to be a home to a small gazebo area. It seemed vague, somehow. As if he couldn't remember what the house looked like as he was looking at it. Perhaps he had blacked out from the headache? He shook his head. There was nothing nice and peaceful like this where they had stopped. The pollution alone seemed to blot out the blue sky there, not to mention all the diesel engines providing constant noise pollution. He noticed it then, the silence. He heard birds, the rustle of leaves, but not a single car. Not an engine, nothing. He heard a female laugh, silently thanking some mystical power that someone could tell him where he was. He turned to the source, two figures emerging from the shadowed house. "I told you Derek, we can't be married, and you know why!" No. It wasn't. It...It couldn't be. Sam sized Emily up, the petite brunette looking even smaller among all the ruffles of the gown she wore. It was old, like Victorian Era old. Her hair was curled and pulled over her right shoulder, her face was lightly dusted to appear very pale, and she held a white parasol over her head, as if to protect herself from the sun. She was smiling, a beautiful, light-up-the-world smile that he had only seen so many times. The man, while not sickly, was thin but tall, standing a good head and a half over Emily. His brown hair was tamed and curled a bit at his collar. He was dressed well, in a suit, and looked as though he was rich.

"But Mishka!" Sam was struck by the foreign name. "Mishka?" he murmured aloud, realizing he could, in fact speak. He shook himself from his daze and moved towards the couple, stopping in front of them. He needed answers. However, they paid no never mind to him and turned to face each other. "You sound like a child, Derek." He saw her sigh and slightly dip her head. "I know you. And you know me. You aren't attracted to...well... me." Sam took it all from her eyes – The man, Derek, was gay. "And you know what I do when they douse the lights." It struck him once more as he realized she was speaking with a flowing British accent. Things seemed to coming to his mind as if he were in a fog, barely recognizing his surroundings. "We both need the security, Mishka. You are the only one I would trust with my secret, just as I know I am the only one you would trust with yours." Sam watched as Emily...Mishka...Whatever, she turned towards him and moved. He hadn't expected her to move, and, despite stepping backwards, Emily moved right through him. Taken aback, the younger Winchester's eyes widened considerably as his hands glided over his torso where she had passed through.

Derek rushing through his body wasn't as jarring as his mind reeled from what he had seen. Emily in a dress, alone, was pretty shocking. But as the conversation continued, and as Derek wore her down into agreement of marriage, Sam realized just how deep Emily's life went. _'Emily was married?'_ was all that he could think. He turned away from the couple, moving towards the haze that he assumed was a house. Why could he see Emily and Derek so clearly and yet not the house? Why was the path so clear when the borders of the house seemed so far? What was this?

[[Part 1 of 2. – Ichi]]


	15. Is Only The Beginning

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Is Only The Beginning"

As suddenly as the young Winchester blinked, Sam found himself lost in darkness, his previous surroundings lost into fog. He was silent for a few moments, trying to feel out his surroundings. "Hello?" His deep voice echoed through the mist as he listened intently for any form of response. He didn't expect anything but the return of silence was not pleasing. It was eerily quiet in the cold, dry mist. Extending his arms out in front of him, he felt around, slowly beginning to navigate his way out, or what he at least hoped was a way out. He suddenly wished for Jess to be there: while his nightmares of here were horrifying, at least he knew they would end the same way. But this wasn't Jess. It was Emily, and Emily's thoughts. As though he had fallen into her memories. Sam simply stopped moving forward, needing a moment to wrap his mind around this entire situation: if he was in he

r memories, how in hell did he get here? The moment the question slipped through his brain, it became clear. Perhaps his visions had something to do with it. The headache was the biggest thing he had to go on. One way or another, he supposed, it didn't quite matter. After all, figuring out how he got in wasn't going to help him get out.

Sam turned as he suddenly felt it, a foreign presence behind him. Emily stood, facing him, her eyes looked far away and her small frame was draped in white robes. He stared into her eyes but she seemed to gaze through him, his headache slowly seeping into his senses, the dull thudding at his temples returning. "How do I get out?" Sam finally said, standing rigidly straight. Emily blinked, as if bringing him back into focus. Her gentle features contorted in anger as she recognized him, her posture becoming tight. "What are you doing here?" A breeze moved around her, loose tendrils of her chocolate hair moving around her face, the robes flowing like water around her. She held up a hand to him but, as he reached for it, he seemed to fall, the image of Emily vanishing. He landed then, on his feet, his mind so disoriented from the feeling of falling. He looked around as he found himself standing at the center of a large group, all seemingly wealthy and all dressed as Emily and Derek had been. Everyone was looking inwards, as if at him, but as he scanned around, he saw Derek and Emily with him, Derek on one knee, frozen in a proposal as he slipped he ring on her small finger, Emily's face of legitimate happiness. How could Emily have been married? What else had she not revealed? Maybe in a life as long and grand as hers, a marriage didn't seem like a big deal. But she had to see, from a human's perspective, how important it was.

Sam turned, now desperate to escape this place, but found Emily standing face a window directly in front of him. The room was empty of people, besides the two of them. Sam heard the footsteps behind him before the voice ever filled the hall. "Mishka!" The tell tale highness of Derek's voice gave him away but Sam was tempted to turn and look anyway. Before Sam even pivoted, he saw Emily turn out of the corner of his eye, the distinct pregnant belly beneath her simple garments, drawing his eyes straight there, his mouth opening a bit out of reflex. Emily was extremely pregnant. "What's wrong, Em?" Sam watched the pixie-like girl rub her stomach gently, looking around to see if anyone was looking. "I am terrified about this baby." She whispered quietly, forcing Sam to move closer. "I have never conceived with a human before. I shouldn't even be able to." As she held her stomach protectively, her husband placed a hand on her cheek. "Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise."

Sam watched as he felt removed from the memory, now watching it as if it was on a movie screen. Images, some clear, flashed before him. The conclusion of the pregnancy, Emily playing with the child, a daughter and the creation of the family. A name, Angela, began to float around him, invading his senses and becoming a part of him. Baby Angela. The 'movie' slowed before him, Emily and Derek standing above the cradle of their baby. "How can I know what's out there and do nothing?" The hunt. Emily wanted to protect her baby the only way she knew how. Suddenly, the scene changed, as the ornate door to the master bedroom was brutally kicked in, wood splintering around the heavy black boot mark. He watched Emily and Derek spring from bed, surprised. Sam watched as the thugs came, smashing Emily's face harshly, sending her to the ground. Sam watched as Derek rushed to escape the room, yelling for his daughter. Sam heard the room fall silent to a flash as Derek fell to the floor, his life's blood flowing from the gunshot to his chest. Sam watched as Emily was dragged, crying and screaming from the room. A child's screams were all he heard as everything went silent and faded away, becoming aware of the tears on his face. "Angela!" resonated throughout the chamber he was in as the images started back up, revealing Emily bleeding profusely from several wounds.

In a hurried fashion, images flowed through Sam of horrific tortures and agonizing procedures being performed on Emily. What had she done? What the hell did Emily do to deserve this? As they continued, the images sped up until finally stopping dead on a mostly nude, extremely anaemic-looking Emily. Her once healthy frame was withered, her ribs very clearly visible. She had been torn down to nothing. He looked at her face, feeling the tears once more, as she kind of moved slightly, barely aware of where she was. He turned to look as the door to the chamber opened, several men moving in but leaving the door open, allowing Sam to see the stake they were completing. He felt like another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place but the pictures was still unclear. When he turned once again to see Emily, the image, as if it had once been out of focus, was startlingly clear. "Confess so you can face God on your own." Sam turned to shuffling outside the door as a man entered the room with little Angela. Sam looked at Emily was desperation, hoping she could save Angela. But she couldn't. Just looking at her, Sam knew she probably didn't even know where she was.

The man waited a few moments before snapping his fingers and slugging Emily across the face, blood splattering across the floor. Sam tried to go after Angela but, as if he was stuck in his place, could not reach her or save her. His eyes lit up as they lit the fire under the crying girl. "Mommy!" rang out in the chambers, snapping Emily into wakefulness. Emily struggled against her bonds, too broken and tired to actually do anything. Sam only heard her struggle as his eyes fixated on Angela, unable to tear his eyes away from the atrocity until the flames engulfed her, a horrid stench and agonized screaming filling his senses. He looked back to Emily as one of the men held her face, forcing her to watch as her child was burned alive.

Sam shot back in his chair, breathing erratically as if he hadn't done it in awhile. His eyes, unable to focus through the tears in his eyes, took an eternity to identify his surroundings as his chest tightened, making the absorption of air impossibly tough. Emily shot up next, pulling air into her lungs harshly as well. She looked over at Sam, their eyes connecting as Dean entered the door with pizza. "What happened?" Emily asked, with surprising hoarseness in her voice. She looked to Dean, then to Sam. Sam seemed to hesitate but quickly rose and moved into the bathroom, locking himself inside.

Emily looked from the sealed bathroom door to Dean and then back again. She felt dazed and lost, not to mention completely oblivious to what had been happening. Why had Sam been crying? She frowned and touched her temple with her index finger, feeling a big headache coming on and how exhausted her muscles felt. She watched Dean's head move back and forth from her to the bathroom. "Is that pizza for me?" she asked curiously, trying to bring his attention to her. Her stomach suddenly felt empty as she breathed in the sweet fragrance of the pizza, the organ growling eagerly for satisfaction. Dean absently nodded and handed her the pizza, which she quickly dove into, as he sat on the bed where Sam's head had been lying. "God lord, Em. What did you do to him?" Dean finally asked, forcing her eyes up to him. "I didn't do shit." She said frankly, shrugging. "I get here the same time you did." She stopped for a moment and put the pizza aside, scooting up beside him. "How long was I out?" she asked curiously, pulling his gaze from the bathroom to her. Dean shrugged. "About four or five days." Emily looked over at the bathroom. "I wonder if that's what's gotten to Sam." Dean chuckled quietly, drawing her face back towards his. "Is that what it is?" Dean smiled and shook his head. "I don't know. I got here the same time you did." Emily smiled and rested her head on Dean's shoulder, looking at the bathroom.

Sam had finally stopped the shaking that had racked his body since he came out of Emily's head. He was bent over on the lowered toilet seat, trying to clear his mind. In truth, he felt cursed by what he had witnessed and struggled to clear his mind. Where he was once plagued y images of Jess burning to death, his mind was infected by images of Angela and Emily. How had she survived something like that? The young Winchester stroked a hand through his hair and stared at the tile, wondering if Emily knew what he had seen. It was such a violation, whether it was on purpose or not. He stood and shook his head, opening the door to the bathroom. Dean and Emily were sitting close together, resting their heads on each other. It was a connection Sam feared he would never share with Emily. "Em..." Her head perked up, forcing her back into perfect posture as she sat at attention, looking at him. "Yes Sam?" she asked, looking ever-so empathetic. She knew, she had to. Her body language, her facial expression, her tone... It all indicated she knew. "Angela." The name escaped his lips before he could stop himself, realizing how crude it was. As the name left his mouth, he watched Emily's face contort, filling him with uncontrollable regret. She didn't know he knew. He watched her stand off the bed, her body never losing that posture, and moving to the chair they had tossed her jacket on. "Emily." She raised a hand sharply to cut him off and headed out the door, slamming it behind her. He cringed slightly and kept his eyes fixed on the door. "What the hell is wrong with you two?"

Sam watched from the entrance of the exercise room as Emily unleashed fury on an innocent punching bag. The floor was padded by blue mats that looked worn in several places, looking as though it was meant to be wrestled or sparred on. Emily had shed her jacket and shoes and wrapped bandages around her ankles and hands. She pounded furiously on the bag, never letting it rest. The thick leather hide was visibly worn now and the chain holding it up looked aged. He had to leave the room, with Dean's bombardment of questions following him out. The hotel had been a surprisingly nice one, despite the fact that they just kind of needed to get into one in a hurry. It hadn't been Dean's style but it was about getting Emily out of the car and taking care of her. He had planned to find Emily, and so he had headed for the office. But the moment he saw 'Pool/Exercise Room', it was as though he was seeing it through Emily's eyes. He followed his gut and, oddly enough, found her quickly. He had this odd feeling like he had become connected to her, feeling her emotions and thoughts as vague whispers in his mind. Her loud yell brought him back. She was moving so fast, her fists jabbing at such speed that they appeared to blur in his eyes. The bag punctured suddenly as Emily hopped up and roundhouse kicked the bag so fiercely, the chain gave out, allowing the large leather sack flopping harmlessly off the mats.

Emily's enraged face became clear then, as she had turned to look at him, beginning to stalk forward. She was tiny but she was god damn scary. "What the fuck do you want?" Before he could even respond, Emily's fist jabbed forward, going for the center of his chest. Sam hurriedly defended himself, deflecting the fist to his right, grasping her wrist. Her body seemed to flow with her fist, an unexpected foot kicking him harshly in his face as she brought her foot up, taking them both to the ground with the force of the hit. Sam gripped his jaw, pain radiating from the damaged area, and watched as Emily stood over him, looking up at her like he was an innocent bystander. "Get up."

Sam stood across from Emily on the mats, his face still hurting from the kick she gave him. He felt stupid for not expecting it, since he had seen her fight before and saw how much she favoured using her legs. He pulled off his jacket and, without much warning, Emily lunged at him, shoving jab after jab at his body, the assault unrelenting and brutal. However, Sam caught on quickly, somehow knowing where she was going. Deflecting became far too simple so Sam began to go on the offensive, easily pushing Emily back into a defensive position. They danced around the mats, blocking and attacking in a rhythmic motion, each only occasionally landing a hit the was worth a damn. Finally, Sam landed a hard hit to her stomach, forcing Emily to bend over. She hooked his arm and pulled hard, throwing Sam over her shoulder and planting him on his back. Sam gasped as the air was knocked out of his lungs but recovered enough to spin and take Emily's legs out, laying her on the mat right beside him, the two panting and sweating. Emily stayed still for a short amount of time, her right arm at her side as her left draped over her waist. She turned her head to the side, spitting out a small amount of blood from a solid right hook to her face. Sam sighed and rubbed his face, turning to look at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for whatever happened to happen." He just watched her profile for a time before she sighed and rolled towards him, stopping on her stomach, and moving her arms to rest her head on them. "I know." She murmured, looking at him. "I've never had this happen before, though." Sam gave her a confused expression. "What happened?" he asked curiously. She made him feel like a small child. "How you can tell where I am, how I'm attacking, what I'm thinking. I can feel you too."

Sam rolled onto her side, forcing Emily to adjust her position to look at him properly. "How come you never told us about Derek? Or Angela?" he asked bluntly, figuring she had already kicked his ass enough for one day. Her emotions passed over his face as they flowed through his mind, making him frown. "Its a heavy burden, Sam. I know you can feel it weighing on you. Plus, you are the only other living person who knows about Angela." She closed her eyes and moved onto her side, propping her head on her hand. "I just touched your hand and suddenly I was seeing things. Your memories just flooded through me. Sometimes I saw things, other times I only heard things." Sam watched as tears slipped from her eyes, falling silently onto the mat beneath her. "You know, Angela never had any of my powers. She was five years old and was killed because of me." The two shared a shudder and looked at each other, both sharing the burden. "How did you survive that?" Emily was taken aback by that sudden question but merely shrugged. "I didn't. Not really, anyway. All of who I was died with Angie. I finally escaped the chains when all of my pain and anger manifested. I became a monster. I did things that are so unforgiveable. I can't ever lose myself like that ever again." Sam just looked at her, she could feel it. "That's why you've been alone all these years. You're afraid to lose people you care for." Emily moved and sat up, bringing Sam with her. "I am not exactly a nun." Sam looked at her oddly. "I have bred with humans since Derek. But I should be physically incapable of conceiving. Angela was more than a gift. She was a miracle. And she died because of me. I can never forgive myself for that."

"All patched up?" Dean sounded sarcastic as the two entered to room, Emily holding both jackets. She looked up at Sam, noticing the extent of his damage and finally feeling her own. "As it were." She commented off hand, tossing the coats into the chair. Dean turned towards the bed, grabbing a first aid kit off the bed. "Why did you have that out?" she asked curiously, putting her hands on her hips. "Figured you were going to kick Sam's ass when he found you."


	16. Provenance

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Provenance"

Emily sat next to Sam in the smoky bar, nursing her beer. The Winchesters were a bad influence, it appeared. Here she was drinking for the first time in decades and just last week she hooked up with a human. Just thinking back on it made her smile like an idiot. She had been living like a saint and had just delved back into sin. And it was a wild ride. She had even kept Dean waiting. She snapped back into it, noticing Sam's knowing gaze. Her smile faded as she shrugged and mouthed 'what' before sipping the bubbly beverage. She looked over to Dean who, once again, was picking up a young woman at the bar. "Good lord. Does he never run out of steam or what?" she asked, looking to Sam. While the young Winchester scoured the newspapers, looking for a case, he still managed to give her a slight shrug and shook his head 'no'. Sam's mannerisms were becoming easier to live with since the issue outside of Fitchberg. Reading another's thoughts and emotions was a bizarre feeling. It had faded a bit but Sam still seemed pretty in tune with her. Judging by his knowing looks, he could see straight through her. The younger Winchester stopped on the front page of one of the many papers strewn on the bar table, Emily shifting over slightly to read it as well. Sam repeatedly motioned for Dean to rejoin them as Emily scanned the page, reading about a couple who had their throats slashed in their own home. Apparently the alarm was turned on and the house was sealed. If that didn't scream 'Our deal' then Emily needed to go over the last couple millennia and re-evaluate herself. She looked up as Dean joined them, drink the sharp beer once more. "Thanks for joining us." She commented, quirking an eyebrow at him. "What are we today? Rock stars? Army rangers?" "Or astronauts? That was a surprising one." Sam gave Emily a little look, silently telling her that she wasn't helping. "We're TV scouts." Emily scoffed and looked back down at the paper, skimming over the lines as she half listened to the conversation. "Yeah, but you don't." Emily looked up, the three of them forming a triangle as they stared at each other. Why was Dean bringing up Sam's dating habits, here of all places?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emily rested her drink on its coaster and looked at Dean, wondering where he was going with this. "Nothing, what do you got?" Emily rolled her eyes and delicately picked up some beer nuts from a small wooden bowl beside her elbow, thoughtfully popping them into her mouth, one by one. The best thing about being human-ish was the food, for sure. So many smells and tastes. After comparing the murder with other murders written in John's journal, Dean 'agreed', as it were, to come. "Can it wait until morning?" Emily scoffed, earning a charming look for Dean. "Yes." Sam simply stated, Dean almost immediately turning away and heading back to the young women he was wooing. "How come he never bothers you about your dating habits?" Emily looked at Sam, smiling. "Because I'm not his brother and I haven't forced myself into chastity like you have." She said, smiling empathetically now. "I understand your reasons, better than most..." She tapped two fingers to her temple and shrugged, slipping her hand through the handle of the mug for her beer. "But it doesn't hurt to try and let go. Live a little as it were."

Emily scooted in the car behind Sam after he honked for Dean, startling his older brother from his alcohol induced slumber. Dean had hit it pretty hard last night. To cut the long story short, Emily simply interrupted Sam's long explanation of the house by merely mentioning that all of the furniture and items the Telescas had were gone. Having determined that it isn't the people or the house, it was time to evaluate the furniture and belongings of the deceased. It didn't take long to find the Blake auction house but the moment Emily stepped out of the car, she felt out of place. At least, more so than usual. With her hair down in loose curls, her tight jeans, black boots, and fake leather jacket, she knew they would look like fish out of water. Even the Impala looked extremely out of place, with its unwashed body, slightly beaten up exterior, and without a signature license plate. Even still, she led the group, walking into the grand hall and immediately immersing herself in examining the objects marked 'Telesca'. It seemed cold to be selling off the property of a recently murdered young couple so soon but, hey, money made the world go round even when she was young. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before somebody commented on their presence, Emily tried to move fast. An older gentleman in a suit approached them, Emily not moving from her place as she looked over a couple lighting pieces grouped together. They had some high quality belongings.

Emily stood straight as Dean stopped embarrassing himself, making herself known between the brothers as Sam offered his hand, the man just kind of glancing at it before ignoring it. "That was rude." Emily piped up, the man's gaze coming to her. "The man offered his hand in an introduction. As what I can assume is the owner of this auction house, you should be polite and introducing yourself to as many potential clients as you can." As he opened his mouth, Emily literally raised her hand and he stopped, making Dean give her a surprised look. "Now, instead of accusing us of 'not being on the list', why don't you go check 'the list', and get back to us." She slipped a business card from her wallet and handed it to him, the man silently turning and moving away. Emily turned as well, the brothers following. "Emily, are we actually on that list?" Emily shook her head. "No, so let's hurry up." She said, feeling Sam roll his eyes almost immediately after. Then she saw it. The blood red features of the painting really drew her gaze to it. She moved in front of it, Sam moving to her right as Dean moved to the left, still stuffing his face with hors d'oeuvres as they scanned the painting. A female voice rang out above them, dragging their gaze up to the top of a spiral staircase to a woman in a black dress. Who hopefully deliberately made a mistake in reference to the art. Both Sam and Emily looked back to the painting, Emily looking at him and shaking her head to indicate that the woman was wrong. Sam turned around and started his nerdy art flirting with the auction house girl while Emily crouched down, observing the figures and objects in the piece. However, it wasn't long until the rude proprietor of that establishment came back. "You aren't on the list." He stated, glaring daggers at Emily as he offered her card back. "Never said we were." She commented, taking the card back and heading towards the exit, tucking the piece of hardened paper in her pocket.

Emily looked around the disco themed motel room, the stainless steel and black theme actually somewhat appealing to the eyes. She joined the brothers in an instinctual 'huh' after seeing the room and moved forward, placing her bags in the chair at the kitchen table. As the boys moved into the bed area, Dean began suggesting what she knew he would. The Sarah woman seemed interested in dear Sam and, Emily knew, he thought she was cute. "We need those papers, Sam. And the old guy is not even close to being out biggest fan." Emily pulled out her sleek black laptop, having salvaged it from a pawn shop last week. It wasn't her best work but it was good for what it did: research. "It wasn't my butt she was checking out." Emily tilted her head slightly and turned, moving into the bed area. "Stop talking Dean." She murmured, shaking her head. She turned to Sam as Dean shrugged and pulled out his phone. "Call her, Sam." She stated bluntly, Dean raising his phone in perfect timing.

"Not even first base, Sam?" Emily asked as Dean ran hard and scaled the gate to the auction house first. Emily was next. She bolted at the gate and jumped, landing higher than Dean and scrambling over, her long legs bending as she dropped herself to the asphalt, standing straight in time to see Sam come over. "No comment." The younger Winchester stated. Emily frowned as they hustled to the door, quickly disabling the alarm system. Emily blotted out two security cameras over the main entrance with a laser, the beam forcing them into standby mode. Sam disabled the security system as Dean picked the lock, Emily trading the laser for a flashlight as she made her way in first, trying to recall her steps. They split up to find it, noticing that most of the items had been shifted around and whatnot. Dean was the first to find it, Emily following him up the stairs with Sam right after her. As they approached, Emily whipped out a switchblade and handed it to Dean, the older Winchester making quick work of cutting it from its frame. It was one creepy piece of artwork, that was for sure. Dean handed it to Sam as it came loose from the frame, Sam quickly rolling it up as Dean closed and returned her blade, the three slipping as silently from the auction house as they had entered. In the end, Emily had sprinkled some lighter fluid on the painting and Dean torched it. "That seemed a little easy." She murmured, looking down at the burning canvas. "Don't say that. You'll jinx it." Dean said with a little chuckle.

Dean came out of the bathroom in a rush, rambling about having dropped his wallet while he was at the warehouse last night. Emily rolled her eyes and stopped packing, grabbing her jacket and pulling it over her bare shoulders. She nodded to Sam, knowing they had an alibi if he HAD lost it. They had been there a day ago. It was semi-plausible. Dean drove like a madman to the auction house and the three rushed inside, looking in nooks and crannies for Dean's stupid wallet. Emily moved more slowly, not attracting as much attention. Sarah, however, happened to be passing by and greeted them, Emily smiling pleasantly at her. "Nice to see you, Sarah." She stated politely, standing beside Dean opposite to Sam. While Sam tried to say they were leaving town so they had come to say goodbye, Dean not only established that they were staying for a few days but also pulled out his wallet to settle a bogus bet with Sam, earning a strong frown from Emily. Sam tried to play it off but his frustration was clear. "Well, we'll leave you crazy kids alone." Dean gently grasped Emily's arm. "Uh yeah. We have something to do...Somewhere." she finished, moving away with Dean after wiggling her eyebrows at Sam. "They grow up so fast." She commented, wiping away a fake tear as she linked her arm with Dean's. Dean chuckled quietly and looked back, seeing if they were talking. Emily looked as well, noticing some people moving a painting. Her chocolate brown eyes widened as she recognized the painting. "Dean." No sooner did she pull Dean's attention did Sam's voice saying 'Oh God' ring out through the auction house. Emily was startled slightly, as was Sarah, clearly.

Emily sat in the back of the Impala as they brainstormed. "Maybe the frame is enchanted?" she suggested, earning a look from Dean. She inhaled and huffed. "Don't give me that look. I've seen shit you wouldn't believe." Dean looked whipped by that statement, turning back towards the wheel of the car. "You realize that you totally jinxed it, right?" Sam commented, looking at her. "Come on guys! Be serious! We've got to destroy that damnable thing." Dean and Emily both looked to Sam out of instinct, despite the fact that Emily was more of a wealth of information. Sam was quiet for a moment, so Emily spoke up. "It's usually the subject that haunts the paintings, right?" Sam confirmed her beliefs as Dean verbalized the necessary things to be done. Namely, researching the creepy-ass family in that creepy-ass painting. It didn't take long for the three of them to seek out an expert. He was a nice enough man. Just overly eager, from what Emily saw. The gruesome death of the entire family was to be expected, no surprise there. But when he showed them a picture of the original painting, Emily noticed several huge differences. Sam requested a copy, breaking Emily's gaze. She looked up at him as he nodded, her thoughts synced with his.

Emily helped Dean dig up the grave of Isaiah as Sam pulled himself from the grave to talk to Sarah. Emily was eager for this job to finish, having found this painting to be one of the creepiest things she had ever seen, but was also hesitant, knowing that Sam deserved a good woman in his life, if only for a short time. And Sarah had proven herself to Emily as a woman worth knowing. Plus, Dean clearly approved. She helped Dean smash open the pine box, revealing Isaiah's old bones. Dean quickly boosted her out of the hole, Sam grabbing the gas as Dean pulled himself up and grabbed the salt. As the brothers doused the remains, Emily pulled out matches, Sarah moving closer to her. "How exactly did you end up doing this." Emily looked at her, then to Sam and Dean across the grave. "Oh, you know. I guess I was just kind of born into it." She struck the matches, igniting the pack, and flicked it into the grave, the brothers joining them as they watched the body burn. As the flames died down, the three hunters moved to different sides of the grave, pushing and throwing dirt back in. "Head back to that house?" she commented, breathing heavily as she looked from Dean to Sam. Dean nodded and the four headed back to the car, leaving the re-sealed grave behind them. Emily sat with Sarah in the back, bathed in silence as Dean refused to put on music. "So why are we going back to Evelyn's?" she asked, looking from Sam, to Dean, and then to Emily. "Well, we like to guarantee our work, as it were." She said, shrugging slightly. "It's better to know for sure, one way or another." Sarah nodded, content with the answer she was given. For a person who had gone their entire life without knowing about this stuff before, she was taking it all rather well. As they pulled up to the house, they all got out of the car but, as Sarah insisted she accompany Sam, Emily and Dean stayed behind, leaning against the car. Dean hopped back in, leaving the driver's door open, and flicked on some cheesy love song. Emily planted her face in her palm, dragging it slowly down her face before looking down at Dean, shaking her head. "You're incorrigible." She commented as he turned it off at Sam's glare. She watched them go inside and sighed. "I really don't think a fresh murder scene is the right place for Sam to make any kind of move." Emily's hair began flying around as an unnatural wind picked up, blowing leaves all around the house. She pushed herself off the car as the door slammed close, Dean on his feet in seconds.

Emily hopped in the car after Dean. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" Dean sped out of the driveway, covering the distance to the mausoleum in record time. Smashing through the wrought iron gate, Emily and Dean shot out of the car, running into the small crypt. Dean tried smashing through with the butt of his gun but the glass was too strong. Emily ran out to grab something else, only finding a modified blow torch she had used on some changelings a while back. She grabbed it as she heard the shot go off, pulling it from the trunk and running inside. As Dean's lighter kept giving out, she raised the torch. "Drop it." Without hesitation, Dean dropped the creepy doll, Emily using the remaining juice in the torch to ignite the toy and, hopefully the murderous spirit. Emily coughed in the smoke as Dean called Sam, the woman holding the empty torch at her side. Hopefully they were both ok.

Emily stood with Dean by the car. "Don't act so embittered, Dean. This is all about Sam right now." Dean grumbled something about not getting credit but Emily ignored him as Sam came out, Sarah closing the doors behind him. They both moved to get into the car but turned as they heard knocking. Emily's eyes caught them as Sam moved to kiss Sarah, causing her to blush and smile. She climbed into the passenger seat and looked at Dean, smiling. Dean looked goofy. She looked out the window, looking away from the building. She could feel Sam's emotions. She almost wanted to kiss Sarah herself.

[[Hope you enjoyed! I'm really curious as to what you all thought of the last two chapters. Angela was a large part of Emily's storyline but, due to my knowledge of future seasons, time and space became a kind of restraint. So, let me know what you think, RR, and see you next Wednesday! – Ichi]]


	17. Dead Man's Blood

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Dead Man's Blood"

Emily made a 'blech' sound in her throat and dropped the remaining hash brown back on the plate. "I am so tired of eating in places like this. How do you guys do this? I would kill for a salad." She mumbled to herself very fast, looking around for their waitress. The boys were looking for jobs and things to hunt but Emily was just hungry. She had been up all night browsing the internet. At first, she had simply been doing research, trying to find a job as well as helping out a friend in Wisconsin. Then she had stumbled upon something called LOLCats. Needless to say, she didn't sleep all night. Dean had to practically pry her from her chair to get her to eat with them. "Can I have, like, a Caesar salad, please?" she asked the waitress, the young woman being very kind and obliging. "A woman fell 10000 feet out of an airplane and lived." Emily shook her head, putting down her water. "That kind of crap happens all the time." Dean and Sam looked at her surprised. "Sky diving!" she stuck her two thumbs up, clearly joking. "Man, I don't like sleep-deprived Emily jokes." Dean made a face at her as the server brought the salad, Emily eagerly digging into it. "A man, Daniel Elkins, was mauled in his house. But police don't know what to think because there were signs of robbery.

Emily barely had time to finish her salad before Sam and Dean had her in the car. D. Elkins turned out to be a friend of John's, going so far as to have a number in John's journal. The drove to Colorado and found the house mostly intact, save for a study-like room that looked completely demolished. Emily and the Winchester moved through the study, looking over things. No doubt Elkins was a hunter. He had quite a bit of stuff that, to most people, seemed innocuous. To her, it read like a book. Dean spoke up about finding scratches, leading Emily across the room towards him. "It's a mail box." Sam said simply, looking down at Dean. Emily frowned, her food not properly digesting in her stomach. It had been bothering her all night. "Let's just go. I have to pee."

Emily watched the brothers come back to the car, having finished her business a long time ago. They both looked stunned. As they climbed in, she leaned forward, looking down at the envelope in Dean's hand. "J. W.? Not John Winchester, right?" she asked, earning a look from the two of them. "Should we open it?" Emily yelped as there was a rapid tapping on the window, looking over and seeing John. "Dad?" she heard from the front seat. John opened the back door and slid in beside Emily. "Em, always a pleasure." She nodded. "Likewise, John." Sam made a quiet sound that told Emily to 'shush'. "What're you doing here, dad?" John proceeded to give them the short version. He and Elkins were friends, Elkins taught him things, they had a falling out, etc. He took the letter from Dean, not bothering to hide it from Emily because he knew she wouldn't peek. Instead, he began to read it out loud, just so everyone was on the same page. Apparently, he had a gun. An important gun. "A Colt?" Surely he wasn't talking about THE Colt. That weapon was a myth! She had investigated it when rumors had started about it back in the day. She had found no trace of that gun. But she wasn't shocked like the brothers were when John mentioned vampires. "No such thing? Vampires have been a nuisance in my book for the longest time. They were almost wiped out but little nests have been popping up all over the place in the last little while." John nodded to her, acknowledging the information. HE explained to the boys the nature of vampire lore. "They're one of the most popularized types of supernatural creatures so, like zombies, there's a tonne of crap lore about them." Emily mention, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her bag off the floor and shoved her gun into it, mumbling how it was about to be useless.

Emily hopped out of the truck as John did, Sam having pulled a little stunt to force them to stop. What was happening in the Impala? Why wasn't Dean keeping the peace like she was with John? She had just endured an hour of 'Why does Sam always question me' bullshit and Dean couldn't keep Sam calm? Even in John's truck, she could feel the volatile emotions seeping from him. She ran up as Dean did, telling her respective Winchester to cool down. It didn't take much for John and Sam to be at each other's throats. Soon enough, she had to literally pull John off Sam as Dean had to pull Sam away. The quarreling Winchester finally hopped into their respective cars, leaving Emily and Dean standing outside. "Want to trade?" Emily joked, running a hand through her hair before walking back to the truck, smiling back at Dean.

Emily was second into the barn but elected not to follow John. She had her blade out, finding vampires to be the most annoying things. They always woke up when you didn't want them to. She carefully moved through the barn, ducking beneath the hammocks that most of the fangs were sleeping on. She saw a locked cage and headed for that, peeking through to find a bunch of bound and gagged humans on the other side. They were all unconscious and looked drained. Sam began to untie a girl from a post as Emily motion Dean to her, asking for help with the hinges, since she couldn't get the lock off. She sheathed her machete just in time for the human to scream, turning out to not be human at all. The blood on her blouse must've been from one of the vamps. She had been turned. Every single fang was up and at 'em at the shriek. Everyone just kind of froze for a moment until they heard John yell at them. The three of them turned and ran for it, the fangs chasing after them. She felt one really close to her and turned, lopping his head off with smooth comfort. Her fluid turn completed as she began to run forward once more, hopping into the sunlight eagerly. They stopped at the cars, looking for John, who had not followed them out. Emily still grasped her machete, blood dripping from the tip of the blade as her hand trembled slightly, the universal human reaction to adrenaline. It was a foreign feeling but damn was it good. She watched as John moved through the brush, noticing that he wasn't holding the Colt.

Naturally, after fetching the dead man's blood, Emily and Dean were used for bait. Emily stood in front of the Impala with Dean, looking at the engine as if it owed her money. She didn't like being used as bait but she knew why she was being used. John knew of her past relationships with vamps. He knew she was strong against them. She heard movement behind her, her back stiffening slightly. "Car trouble?" She turned to see what she would assume was the alpha female of the nest. Naturally, Dean was full of smart ass responses for her little suggestive wordplay. She smacked Dean aside at the 'necrophilia' comment and made for Emily, the brunette blocking her hit. "Your scent." She swung again, Emily grasping the vamp's wrist tightly in an iron grip. "You are not human." Emily said nothing but reacted too late as her back up came, restraining her. "Hmmm. A supernatural hunter. Kind of like a 'gay republican'." Emily made a mocking snort. Though, she could admit it was a good analogy. She lifted Dean up by the face, Emily struggling a bit, moving her body away from the other fang. A sharp 'whistle' sound whizzed in the air as two arrows flew down, one impaling the alpha female, the other piercing the torso of the one restraining Emily. The arrow had pierced Emily's skin on her back, having cut through her jacket. "Dammit." She mumbled as the male vamp released her. She turned slightly, Sam setting his hands on her shoulders to stop her movement. "It's not that bad." He suggested, forcing her to frown. "Sam...Did you just shoot me in the back with an arrow?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. "Nope. That was my shot. Sorry Em." John spoke up about the arrow, making her direct her gaze at him. "John! This was my favourite jacket!"

Emily ran down the hill with Sam and Dean, dumping her crossbow once she had fired off her shot. She needed to seriously invest in an automatic bow. She pulled out her machete as she punched the male vamp in the face, putting him down before chopping his head off. She made quick work of his mate as well, ensuring they would never plague humanity again. Then Sam was caught by Luther. Emily stopped in her tracks, just as Dean had, and hesitated but eventually dropped her blade. She stayed silent as Luther, the alpha vamp, attempted to justify his existence, asking why we couldn't just leave them alone. She trusted that, had they not taken the Colt, John wouldn't have pursued him. However, they kill humans. And humans kill them. A moment of existential clarity dawned on Emily just then...Right before John buried a Colt slug right between Luther's eyes. His death was unique and surprising. The Colt, the legendary gun, was not only real but it worked.

Emily pulled her back pack on as John came back in, his hands in his pockets looking like a man who had just been proven wrong. He moved closer to Sam and Dean so Emily just kind of butted out and turned back to her duffel, finishing off the packing. "We're stronger as a family. We go after this thing together." Emily paused for a moment. "Yes sir." A silent sigh passed her lips as she realized that she was not blood and did not share this destiny of revenge. She had no place here. She zipped up her duffel as a hand slipped onto her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll jack a car and go hunt in Canada for a bit." She turned to find John right behind her with Sam and Dean off to the side as well. "Don't think you're getting out of this so easily." She smiled at Dean's comment and shook her head. "It's not my place." She murmured, looking back to John. "I understand if you don't want me to go." The brothers moved closer and the Winchesters formed a semi-circle around her. "If you don't come with us, who exactly is going to stop us from getting killed?"

[[Sorry for shortness. This chapter was very 'Winchester Family' centric and I didn't want to ruin that. RR – Ichi.]]


	18. Salvation

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Salvation"

Emily stood in front of the wealth of information tacked to the walls, looking over John's extensive research. She had never seen anyone track like this before. "This is it. This is everything I know." Emily turned and moved back towards the group. "John, this is exquisite work. Even I can't track like this." John spared her a look as she leaned against the wall, mirroring Dean's posture who stood opposite to her. "Arizona, New Jersey, California. All following the same pattern." Sam seemed emotionally unstable today. Emily could feel his churning, wildly conflicting emotions in her mind. "Going after families with infants?" Emily turned to Sam as John specified that it was the infant's six month birthday. Sam, predictably, began to blame himself for what had been done. "So mom's and Jess' death were all my fault?" Emily lowered her head to her palm, gently resting her forehead on it. Was now really the best time for self pity and directing blame? "It is OUR problem!" Dean demanded, pulling Emily out of her own head in time for John to stand up, drawing the attention of the room. Even Emily felt like a junior hunter around John. Sure, she had more years, more experience, and more cause but John had certainly developed his own way and it got things done. John began to elaborate on how he was tracing the demon, highlighting different omens that occurred before the fires themselves. "It's a heavy hitter, then." Emily commented, earning looks from all of the Winchesters. "I've dealt with demons before and effecting something as large scale as the weather by simply strolling into town...Got to admit, he sounds like a higher up." Dean and John salvaged a nod while Sam just continued to look flustered. "These signs are cropping up again. In Salvation, Iowa." Goddamn irony.

Emily sat in the passenger seat of John's truck, cross comparing records of the omens, finding similar patterns all throughout the US stretching back several decades. "John, what about these omen when there were no fires?" Emily asked curiously, looking over at the senior Winchester. He opened his mouth to speak as his cell went off. All year, he hadn't been answering his phone and now, while he was driving, he decided to. Emily smirked as John participated in a short chitchat with the caller, the language and tone becoming increasingly hostile. "Sulfur? Are you sure?" She looked to John, who met her eyes, and set the records aside, now listening in to what remained of the conversation. John put his phone down as the call finished, hesitating for a moment before calmly pulling off the road. Emily didn't have time to ask before he was out of the car, forcing her to climb over and sit on the driver's side, her legs dangling from the truck. "Pastor Jim?" Emily seemed to have been missing something, namely the identity of the man who had his throat slashed. However, he seemed to be a family friend of the Winchesters, since all three were rendering emotional responses. John was clearly upset, she could feel Sam's emotions, and Dean's little cheek tick was going off as he forced his emotions away. "This ends now." She hurried back to her seat as John moved to return to the cab, buckling herself up. Bad things were happening now that they were so close to finding this demon.

Emily poured over birth record after birth record, trying to determine the timely births. Despite the local Grace hospital being the central hub for maternity and neonatal care, the nurses weren't very warm and inviting. In fact, Emily had to gather most of the records herself. Luckily, she was in a patient mood. John had dropped her off with no more words than necessary and she was taking her time, being excessively detail oriented. She had been invited on this hunt, it was true, but this was an extremely private family matter for the Winchesters. She wasn't trying to run herself down but what exactly could she contribute here. She frowned and closed up the manila folder in front of her, absently reaching for the next one, only to find she had already gone through the stack. She looked down at her journal, noticing that she had only written down three names. Only three babies were born in the time frame she required at the Grace. She sighed and stood, tucking her small green journal into her ratty backpack. How did any official believe her fake Ids when she dressed, acted, and accessorized the way she did. Fake leather jacket, loose curly hair, flared jeans, and whatever band shirt she could find at thrift stores. She nodded to the nurses as she left, not receiving any form of acknowledgment in return, and stepped out into the grey, rainy day. She sincerely missed taking breaks. When the stress of the job got too much for her, Emily always knew to take a break. Stay inside on a rainy day, read something, take her mind away from the harsh, scary world around her. But the Winchesters didn't know how to do that. Their mortal lives were so short that they didn't even have time to burn out. Emily did, and she knew all too well it was dangerous to push at your boundaries.

Emily stopped suddenly about 10 meters from the parking lot where John was waiting for her. Pain flew across her brain, lighting up her nerves with searing focus. She groaned softly and moved her hand to her head, cradling the right side of her head as her left hand held her backpack. She looked up, seeing John coming closer, and began to move forward, stopping as the senior Winchester grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stand straight. "Its Sam." She stated bluntly before John could question her. She pushed past John and started towards the truck, hearing him following closely behind. "What do you mean 'Its Sam'?" She watched as John grabbed the door helping her into the truck's cab. "I'll let them explain this whole thing, John. It isn't my place." In his typical way, John let the question drop and hurried to the driver's side, hopping in and gunning it to the motel of choice.

Emily stood against the wall, her hair tied back in a tight bun, nearly mimicking Sam's movements perfectly. She could feel the pain of his visions but not see them, which was frustrating. John looked annoyed but, luckily, Dean just seemed concerned. After a few moments, Emily joined Sam at the table, rubbing her temples gently. "A vision." It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement. She could understand how foreign and random it was to John but neither Sam or her felt like talking about it, and she knew it. "They started out as nightmares but then they started happening when he was awake." Emily finally stopped rubbing her head and looked at John, her eyes half lidded due to the pain. "When were you going to tell me about this?" Emily's eyes opened widely for a moment in surprise, looking at John as if he had multiple heads. Sam and Dean copied the motion as well but toned it down. "We didn't know what it meant." Dean was being surprisingly reasoned today. Suddenly, John was demanding that, if something like this was happening to Sam, Dean should call him. Emily nearly hopped on the offensive before Dean turned quickly, visually angered by that statement. During that little spat, Sam turned to Emily and she gave him a weak smile. "Damn these headaches are bad." She whispered, moving her hand to rub her forehead. She looked up as John admitted that he had been tough to reach, at the very least, surprised by this. Emily hadn't seen it before but John really did weaken around his boys. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it was dangerous. However, all she could feel was her maternal side coming out as she wondered how John could so clearly favour Sam over Dean. Dean was dying before, all those months ago, and he hadn't called them back or even mentioned it. Sam has visions occasionally and suddenly John should have been called and kept up to date every ten seconds. It wasn't fair to Dean but, if Dean noticed, his face didn't betray it.

Emily looked down as Sam's phone rang and lit up, the noise a mere nuisance now. She looked up at Dean who had moved over to her side and met her eyes. Dean was happy, and while it wasn't apparent by his facial expression, she knew he was. "Hello?" she turned as Sam answered the phone, her mind racing with Sam's as he attempted to identify the female caller on the other end. Warning lights went off behind her eyes as their minds settled on 'Meg' as the caller. "Meg." Sam verbalized the caller's name, gaining the undivided attention of both Dean and John, the latter having moved closer, as if the phone was about to attack Sam. Instinctively, Emily sat up a bit straighter, leaning in a bit to hear her. _"Let me speak to your dad."_ The request was more of a demand and Sam's response was as calculated as she had come to expect. After attempting at tricking Meg, Sam reluctantly handed the phone to John, looking back to Emily briefly, as if for comfort. She afforded him a small smile and then looked up to John as he spoke to Meg.

Meg, from what she was gathering, had just murdered a long time friend of the Winchesters and was demanding the Colt. Emily, Dean, and Sam were listening so intently, the room was rendered entirely silent. Then John agreed to surrender the Colt. Emily watched as both brothers shifted uneasily at the submission, but maintained her composure, assuming John had ulterior motives. _"If you do decide to make it, come alone. Oh, and John. Don't bring your little ace-in-the-hole. I'll smell her out if she's here."_ Sam shot her a glance as the quiet voice spoke to the room, the garbled message clearly reaching his ears. She looked to John as he gazed at her, their eye locking for a few moments before moving onto what was happening.

"John. Please, don't do this." Emily had followed John outside to his truck while the brother's stayed inside, still reeling from John's decision. "Let me come. I can cover my trail better than that demon could sniff me out." John just turned sharply, looking down at her intensely. "No, Emily. I need you here with them. I want them to be safe." Emily looked away, towards the Impala, running her hand over her face before pushing the lose strands of hair back over her head. "Your boys can take better care of themselves than I ever could." Her chocolate brown eyes locked with his once more, her hands grasping her hips as she went on the offensive. "You, however, will be outnumbered no doubt and also without the gun that kills demons. Your odds are not good and your sons will never forgive me if there was something I could do that could have saved your life." They just kind of stared at each other for a few moments, both about ready to rip the other's head off. "Can you shift, or whatever you do, when you're like this?" Emily sighed and leaned back. "Maybe? I have no idea, to be honest. I've still got most of my powers. I just don't use them often." She paused. "I may have enough juice to get to Lincoln by myself but not enough to get us back." John looked like a man at the end of his rope, reaching for something. Emily felt stretched but she was in this until the absolute end.

Emily watched through the windshield as Sam and John appeared closer and closer on their approach. Dean had been ruffled, at best, the entire car ride. But, in all fairness, she didn't feel like talking either. They pulled themselves from the car and moved towards the oldest and youngest Winchester. "You get it?" Dean handed the wrapped up pistol to John. "Chris is the best antiques guy in this part of the world. I can always count on him." John nodded in appreciation to her and directed his attention to his boys, politely indicating for a few moments. Em moved away and stood against the Impala, leaning her jean clad but against the wet, jet black hood. They spoke for a few moments before John departed, sparing a wave. Had Emily not been made in the life, she acknowledged that most of the mannerisms of the Winchesters were particularly rude by society's standards. As the troubled boys walked towards her, Emily silently thanked any spiritual being that they were like that. Meant she could be as she was.

Emily sat in the backseat, chowing down on a cheeseburger. She knew she was going to gain weight if she didn't stop eating such crap food. But it was sooooo goooooood. She couldn't help herself. One of those human frailties in regards to willpower. She shrugged it off and looked at the house again, ignoring the collective strain in the car: Not a single one of them wanted to be anywhere but Lincoln right now. Finally, it culminated in Sam turning to both her and Dean and quietly thanking them for everything they had done for him. Emily's eyebrows practically shot into her hairline while Dean immediately hopped on the defensive, demanding that no one was going to die tonight except for the demon. Emily leaned forward and nodded. "Besides, I've been alive for so long...It would be far too anti-climatic for me to die now." The three shared and joke and then looked to the house again. "I'm tired of waiting. I want him to come so we can kill him and I can haul my ass to Lincoln." Dean looked over at her. "I thought you couldn't do that?" Emily shrugged a bit and reached unconsciously for her necklace, a simple string that was fairly innocuous. "I put my necklace in his truck and combined with the power I charged it with, it will boost me so I can make it there. It'll pretty much link me up on the other side." She lowered her hand, as if finally noticing the string wasn't there.

Emily lowered her eyes to the radio as she noticed Dean had not turned on any rock in the last day or so. "Can you pull dad back through?" She locked eyes with Dean and shrugged. "I didn't promise him anything. If I have enough power, it'll be for one. And that'll be John. If I do have the energy for it, I'll be sending John to the hotel room." She clarified, looking back to the radio as it began to squeak and hiss. "Dean." Sam spoke up as all three stared at the radio, adrenaline pumping through Emily's heart as she realized the time had come. The wind picked up as the lights of the house began to flicker madly. Emily eagerly hopped out of the car, holding her shotgun against her arm, effectively shielding it from the view of others. After a short confrontation with the husband, Sam and Emily rushed into the room with the demon standing there. Deep yellow eyes stuck out in the darkness as the demon locked eyes with them. Both Sam and The Demon hesitated before Sam took the shot, missing and piercing a hole through the wall. Sam grabbed the woman he had met as Dean rushed in, grabbing the infant just before the crib lit on fire. Emily pushed the boys out of the room first, looking around to make sure The Demon was gone. She turned sharply towards the door, the shadowy figure standing behind her. She gasped and raised her weapon as he pushed his hand into her chest, a deep burn carving itself just below her collarbone on the left side. She screamed and unloaded a round, injuring The Demon before he could vanish. She groaned in pain and pulled herself off the floor as flames licked at her. She ran outside as Dean yelled for her, somersaulting into a roll to get flames off her back. She exhaled sharply, black smoke marks on her revealed flesh and burn marks in her coat. Dean grabbed her arm to help her off the ground, the three of them looking up to the window, the Demon standing there, mocking them. Sam attempted to get back inside, Dean holding him back as Emily literally put herself between him and the house. "You aren't going back!" she yelled at him, pushing him back.

Emily cried out as Sam attempted to help the seared flesh on her chest with a burn gel, every attempt simply making it worse. Her destroyed jacket laid on the floor of the Impala, Dean speeding back to the motel as Sam knelt beside her in the back seat. "What the hell is this?" Sam growled, obviously pissed that they had not allowed him to return to the house. Emily hissed in pain, the burn surprising agonizing. "What does it look like?" she murmured through her teeth, trying to look at it. "It looks like a character of some kind." Dean was the only calm head in the car, surprisingly enough, and his voice was soothing to her in that moment. "It's probably something to keep me from Lincoln." She caught Dean's eyes in the rear-view. "I can't muster enough power to get to Lincoln. Not even close."

Emily studied the symbol in the bathroom mirror, the door wide open, as Dean attempted to reach John and Sam just brooded on the bed. She walked out of the bathroom, the rune, as she determined, still a violent black mark on her chest. "Something happened." She nodded to Dean at his comment and then looked to Sam, who was busy in his own little emo world. "Did you hear me? Something happened." Sam's angry comment clearly made something inside of Dean come loose, forcing Emily to step back so they could talk. "The only thing you would've ended was your life." Emily exhaled sharply but quietly, her eyes flicking between the two men before her. They argued, as Sam made it clear he was willing to die to kill that demon. "You said once yourself, they are gone. There is nothing we can do to bring them back." Emily yelped and moved away as Sam slammed Dean into the wall where she had been leaning, standing beside them but not making a move to break the hold. They were grown men and they could work it out. The entire situation was heart breaking. Dean couldn't let Sam die because Emily and Sam were all he had in the world. And now John was back, he felt his family had finally come together again. Sam released him and stepped away. "Dad. He should've called by now. Try him again." Emily steadied herself against her emotions and those of Sam as she looked at Dean who slowly typed in the speed dial. They feared the worse, and Emily knew it. "Where is he?" Emily's eyes widened as she realized it was Meg's voice on the other end. _"You boys are never going to see your father again."_

**To Be Continued...**


	19. Devil's Trap

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Devil's Trap"

"They've got dad." That one sentence fragment sent the three minds in the room reeling. Emily's struggled with how John could get caught and how she hadn't been there to get him back. She could feel Sam's mind reeling on what Meg has done and how to save John. Her mind was overwhelmed until she stepped forward. "Quiet!" she announced, immediately silencing both Dean and Sam. The three stood in a triangle, as they had many times before. For a few moments, they all just stood, their minds blank. Their eyes moved quickly, meeting each other repeatedly, before Dean finally moved, grabbing the Colt before his own duffel. "We gotta go." Without a question, Emily grabbed her new-ish jacket and swung it over her shoulders, following immediately. "Let's go, Sam." She said, a touch of finality in her tone as she lifted her own bag and zipped it closed. "The Demon knows we're in Salvation. It knows we have the Colt, it's got Dad, and it's probably coming for us next." The idea that Sam still wanted to fight over this boggled Emily's mind. "Let it come. We still have three bullets." Sam and Dean were very clear on their respective points but, in the end, Dean was older, and Sam was obedient, to a degree. Emily looked at her and moved outside before the boys, throwing her duffel into the back seat of the Impala as she reached it.

Emily looked around as she stepped out of the Impala, the decrepit old house that was covered in tire rims standing before her. "What're we going to find here?" she asked, somewhat aloof at that moment. "Well sorry it isn't perfect, Miss Princess." Emily turned to see a gruff older man, with a beard and a trucker hat, emerge from the house, looking at her as if she were an enemy. She noticed the gun in his hand and frowned, seriously considering pulling her piece as well. "Emily, calm down." She turned to Dean and nodded, moving as they did, inside the house. Immediately, the man they identified as Bobby produced silver flasks full of holy water. She smiled at it and unscrewed the lid. However, as she raised it to her mouth, Dean's hand moved over the hole. "Can you even drink that?" The cocking of a shot gun was all she needed before she whipped out her pistol, holding it a few inches from Bobby's face just as the shotgun was. She inhaled quietly and sipped the holy water, a barely visible ripple of light running freely from her lips over her face and down her body. "I am not your enemy." She stated sternly, quickly holstering the weapon. "Then what the hell are you." The older man lowered his weapon slightly, looking her up and down, just as Sam and Dean were. "I'd tell you if I knew."

"More than half these books are legitimate originals. How did you get these?" Emily was incredulous at the quality and quantity of Bobby's library. In less than an hour, she and Bobby had become closer than a father and daughter. She unloaded a bit about herself to put him at ease and he was suddenly completely fascinated by her existence. The books littered around his home had drawn her in and amazed her. Bobby just smiled at her before turning back to Sam and Dean, knowing that it was time to be serious. "This is some serious crap you boys stepped into. Normally, I'll hear of three, maybe four tops, real demonic possessions a year. This year, I've heard of 27, so far." Emily was alerted by the barking of the dog they had passed on the way in, Bobby identifying him as Rumsfeld as he walked to the window concerned. Emily joined them in the kitchen as the door was kicked in. "How rude." Escaped Emily's lips before she could stop herself. Dean was the first to act, approaching Meg with the holy water in the flask. She watched as he was subsequently batted away easily by the demon. She saw, in her peripherals, Sam moving Bobby behind himself protectively. Emily moved in front of them a few feet and raised her fists. Meg gave that condescending smirk and moved her arm as she had with Dean, Emily not budging. "That doesn't work on my, sweetie." Moving forward quickly, Emily slammed a hard right into Meg's face, putting the possessed body on the ground. "You bitch." Emily smiled a little bit at that, just trying to get Meg into a blind rage. "What the hell are you?" She watched the demon stand and shrugged. "Stronger than you, I guess." Meg took the offense as if it were second nature to her, Emily's happily backing up as Meg swung at her. For Emily, it was like déjà vu to fight Meg, because every move, every thrust of a fist or kick of the leg, was not only expected but also prepared for. Finally, Emily took a swift kick to the stomach, falling on her butt in front of Sam and Bobby. "You really thought that I wouldn't find you?" Emily felt Sam pull her up as Dean rounded the corner. Emily looked to Bobby and smiled before the four of them gazed upwards, revealing the devil's trap to Meg.

Emily frowned at the tall building in front of her. Smart sons of bitches, these demons were. She turned back to face Dean and Sam, who were just as concerned about breaking into an apartment building full of families with children while they were packing. "So how the hell are we going to get in?" Sam first looked to Dean, who responded by looking at the building again, and then to her. "I'd say fire alarm. Clears out the human shields so all that's left will be the demons and John." Sam looked surprised, as if he wasn't in her mind and couldn't see where her mind was going with that. Dean however, looked appeased. "I always wanted to be a fireman." Emily rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Odds are, they're somewhere near a fire escape. They wanted us to come for him, right? Well, they probably prepared it so we could get there but we would be ambushed." Emily paused briefly before pulling her backpack on. "You two dress up like heroes, I'll go skulk around near the fire escape. Signal me when you find John and I'll be up in a flash." They nodded to each other but she hesitated. "We're all so bleak... Its not like this is the last time we'll see each other." She gently touched Sam's cheek and turned away, hurrying off towards the building at a leisurely jog.

Emily grabbed John's belt as he reached the end of the ladder and allowed his full weight to fall on her before setting his feet on the ground. "John, always a pleasure." She commented, grabbing his chin as to inspect his face quickly. Dean and Sam joined them and quickly took over helping John as she grabbed the bags, hurrying behind them. There was no one around but she didn't want to be flaunting guns in a suburban neighbourhood. Sam ran ahead past a mail truck when, out of nowhere, a man tackled him to the ground and began assaulting him. Dean set John down on the ground as Emily left the bags with him, the two running to the aid of Sam. Dean was, once again, thrown rather easily. "You don't have the juice, junior." She commented harshly as she walked up to him. She punched him, hard, and nearly felt her knuckle crack. The demon laid a hard fist into her stomach before upper cutting her to the ground, blood spewing from new cuts to her mouth. Emily could not remember the last time she had her ass kicked in less than a minute. She groaned softly, trying to get up to help Sam before a shot rang out, a bullet from the Colt ripping through the head of that demon and killing him. Emily inhaled a laborious breath before looking to Dean who held the gun. She stood on her own and ran to John, trying to lift him and the bags off the ground. She was quickly joined by Dean and a half beaten to death Sam. Sam grabbed Dean's bag as his older brother moved John onto his shoulder. She wrapped her arm around Sam to keep him steady as the four of them ran off, looking for shelter from the oncoming storm they were about to face.

Emily sat in the busted old wooden chair at the busted old wooden table in the busted old wooden shack cleaning her weapon as Sam salted the windows. Her lip had healed up just fine but her pride had not. She quickly breathed on the muzzle of her weapon before locking it back into place, setting it down. Dean then entered the main room where they sat, awaiting news on John's health. Emily, however, didn't excuse herself when they began talking. While it was a revelation of vulnerability, they seemed fine with her being there. Then, Dean started talking. "You know that demon I killed back there? There was a human in there. I killed him, and I killed Meg." Emily leaned forward, listening as Dean berated himself for his actions, saying that, while he doesn't regret it because it saved them, he regrets it because he knows how far he would go. Emily stood and moved over to him, setting a hand beneath his chin so he would look at her. "There is no 'too far' when it comes to protecting those you love." She whispered, looking at him solemnly. "Only too far avenging them." She felt Sam's eyes on her while she said that, his mind suddenly racing with images of Angela. She closed her eyes momentarily and moved away as she heard footsteps from the other room, turning as John approached them. "She's right. I'm proud of you." Emily watched John closely, his mannerisms slower than before. More calm, less obsessed. She couldn't put her finger on it but just assumed they were all frazzled. The three of them hadn't even slept. The lights began to flicker madly, just as they had at the house in Salvation. Emily immediately left to check the doors and windows for salt, not even waiting for an order. All of the rickety doors and windows were sealed shut and salted. But now that the demons had found them, what were they going to do? How could they outlast them? Perhaps a mass exorcism... Emily's mind ran like mad until she entered the main room. At that moment, her entire mind went silent as she watched Dean holding the Colt up to John. What had she missed, exactly?

Sam joined the group in the room, slowly siding with Dean as Emily had. Both Sam and Emily showed great trust in Dean in that moment, their eyes fixated on John intently. He lowered his head, clearly defeated by his children's lack of faith. She locked eyes with Sam for a moment, feeling regret. "I thought so." Emily yelped as Dean and Sam flew across the room, pinned to a wall. She stood straight, looking directly into the golden eyes of The Demon. "Emily, get the Colt." Dean hissed at her. She moved for it, only to find that her body was unresponsive. "Now you...You're a little tricky." The Demon approached her, picking up the Colt before moving to her. "You're too strong for most demons to push around. Lucky I have just enough power to hold you still." John's hand reared back with the Colt, sending the harsh metal into her jaw with unforgiving momentum. She felt her jaw crack slightly. Her head moved back, blood seeping from her mouth eagerly, as he grabbed the side of her coat, revealing the scorched skin that was still there. "You may not know what you are. But I do." Emily's eyes widened considerably as he stepped back. "And this, is going to hurt." He raised his free hand towards her and clenched it into a fist. Emily unleashed a bloodcurdling scream as numerous deep cuts began to appear over her body, generous amounts of blood rushing out of her thin frame. Emily suddenly felt as if she were falling.

Sam watched as Emily's body was left to fall into the pool of her blood on the floor, her eyes closed and her body lifeless. Her mind was empty.

"So that's it then?" Emily opened her eyes and looked straight at Derek, appearing as he last had to her, wearing loose pants he chose to wear to bed with a bullet hold in his bare chest. "Just like that, you're going to let yourself die." Emily sighed quietly and rolled her eyes. "Its not like I was given much of a choice, Derek." He moved to approach her, circling her as she remained stationary. "Oh, but it was your choice. Your choice to stay with the Winchesters. Would you have done anything differently?" The swiftness of her 'no' response came so fast, it nearly scared her. "Fine then. Its time to get off your self-pity high horse and heal yourself." Emily's mind took a look at her body, locating all the injured areas. "I've never been hurt so bad." She whispered. "Oh, I wouldn't say that, my dearest bride. Try to recall that night you can home with a piece of fence impaling you. That was just a long night." Emily laughed softly. "Well, thanks Derek. Now I know I'm just being a cry baby about it."

Emily gasped sharply as she propelled herself off the ground, scaring the hell out of Sam and Dean who sat on the floor just a few inches away. She was still pretty banged up but all that remained on the floor was a stain where the blood used to be. She pivoted her head to get a look at everything and moved to Sam, motioning for him to check on John. As he did, she flopped down beside Dean weakly, barely maintaining a sitting position. "Way to get a knee injury the day before the Superbowl." Emily looked down at Dean's smartass face. "If we weren't both half dead, I'd smack you." She commented, her breathing a little bit slower and heavier. She looked over sharply as John yelled at Sam to shoot him and end it all now. Dean pleaded quietly not to do it. Emily stayed silent, as she knew Sam would make the right decision. She released a breath as he lowered the weapon and the Demon left John's body. She wanted to sigh with relief and lay on the floor but she was concerned she'd never get up.

Emily sat beside Dean in the backseat of the Impala behind John, her body unhealed. She had completely exhausted herself drawing all her blood back into her body and the mark the demon left on her wasn't helping at all. She looked over to Dean to make sure he was ok and grasped his hand with her left hand, the two looking at each other with victory in their eyes. They were all alive and they were all together. "I'm surprised at you Sammy. I thought you wanted to kill this demon. Killing it comes first. Before everything. Before me." Emily looked forward as Dean did, exhausted by this trial. "We still have the Colt, we still have one bullet left. I mean we found this demon once before-" Emily flew across the backseat as the eighteen wheeler slammed into her side of the car. Unable to cope with that trauma, Emily fell unconscious.

[[Hope you all enjoyed Season One with Emily. I hope you'll leave your comments and thoughts in the reviews, let me know I'm doing something right. There will be a bit of a hiatus so I can catch up on some things and then season two shall be unleashed! As well, sorry about the delay. I had the chapter but my primary computer has been on the fritz.- Ichi]]


	20. In My Time Of Dying

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"In My Time of Dying"

Emily could hear Sam's voice calling for his dad, Dean, and her to awaken. She phased in and out of consciousness as a fresh flesh wound to her right temple leaked blood all over her. She was on top of Dean partially but still had his hand tightly in hers. She felt a pulse but he wasn't squeezing her hand. "Dean." She whispered, her voice sounding foreign to her. Her entire body burned with white hot flames of pain. "I've had better weeks." She whispered to herself, coughing up a bit of dried blood in her throat. "Emily! Oh Emily, thank god!" Sam sounded so relieved that he might cry. She smiled weakly, realizing how badly The Demon had hurt her lower jaw, and attempted to move her arm to assure him she was there. "I'd put my hand on your shoulder but I think my arm is broken..." she mumbled off, moving it to test. She nearly cried out, having not had broken a bone for a significantly long time. She groaned as her mind fell away, the pain overwhelming her system. It wasn't until the sun was shining strong overhead that she came back. She felt Dean tugging at her hand that was holding his. She opened her eyes to find paramedics hovering over them, attempting to get them apart. She held strong for only a few moments before his hand slipped from hers. She cried out as her hand searched the air for his. Voices were like faded grumblings around her as she felt them pulling her out of the car. She cried out again and again as new pains flooded her nerves. They laid her on a stretcher, in the sundrenched field where they had been hit, and tied supports to her limbs. She tried to fight as they straightened out her broken arm, the pain far too much. _'I have given birth. This should be nothing.'_ She hissed silently in her mind, finding it hard to actually speak without use of her lower jaw. They attached a neck support to her and quickly hoisted her into a helicopter with Dean. She began to hear rattled off medical jargon about her blood pressure, surprised to find that it wasn't as unusual as it usually was. She was more human than anything at this point, she surmised. Thinking was becoming too difficult for her at that point so she decided to rest, knowing they would all be ok.

"Sam. How lovely to see you." Emily commented quietly, laid up in the hospital bed. "Emily, what's the matter? What're you still doing here?" Emily sighed and sat down the spoon she had been trying to eat the lime Jell-O with for the last hour or so. "My healing is still accelerated. I just over expended my resources and now it's much slower. The doctor says my arm looks like the fracture is almost a month old so they are a little confused." She leaned back against the pillow behind her head and looked out the window into the bright courtyard where some patients and staff were moving around. "How are John and Dean?" Sam moved around her bedside and drew her gaze as he sat on a chair beside her. "Dad's doing good. He woke up a little while ago and still going strong. Bobby is coming to tow the Impala back to his place." Sam paused as Emily's concerns came to the forefront of her mind. "Dean isn't ok, is he?" She watched Sam's face tighten as her eyes welled with tears. He remained silent, the horror of what could have happened hitting her with such force she lost her breath. "God dammit Sam! Is Dean dead!" she yelled, forcing a nurse to poke her head in as she was passing. Both hunters turned to the door, silently forcing the nurse away before locking eyes again. Tears slipped down Emily's cheeks as Sam grabbed the sides of her face with his hands. "He isn't dead but the doctors don't know if he'll wake up." She felt like vomiting. And crying. Perhaps all at the same time. Sam sighed and sat on her bed, gently placing his forehead against hers. She moved her damaged right hand and placed it over his, the white gauze bandages on her lithe appendage creating a gentle scratching noise as they moved against Sam's hardened hands. "He can't die now. Not after all of this." She whispered, the heart rate monitor kicking up a bit with the added stress. Sam nodded against her in silent agreement, clearly feeling the same pain she felt deep in her heart. "I'm going to find someone to help him. I found that faith healer... Dean's going to be ok." As Sam released her face, she gently wiped beneath her eyes. "Are we allowed to go see him?" Sam smiled and shook his head. "No. Not for you anyway. You need to sit and focus on healing." Emily gently pulled down the tank top she was wearing and revealed the scorch mark. "I'm not going to get far with this thing on me. I need a page from my book to disenchant it. It's in my duffel and don't worry; it isn't as heavy as it looks." She gave him a reassuring smile and leaned back once more, her dark brown hair obediently pulled back into a loose bun. She watched Sam as he left, concealing her overwhelming surge of emotions expertly. She needed to be alone, figure out her next step.

Emily did not remember closing her eyes but, when she came to, it was dark. The shades had been pulled slightly but she could still see the stars. She felt strong, at least strong enough to go and look at them. There was something about a clear night sky, something peaceful, romantic, solitary… Emily moved from her bed, slowly swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her legs had actually been fairly mangled in the crash and the first few hours when her body and the orthopedic sadist were attempting to correct her bones was some of the most excruciating moments of her life. She lowered her feet to the ground, the smooth tile freezing against the warm soles of her feet. She moved slowly, her legs still very tender, and moved the chair Sam had been sitting in, positioning it so she could sit and see the stars for a little while. She just sat for a few moments, feeling everything around her. She could feel the air changing, the opening of doors changing the air pressure in the building, just as she could hear the faint announcements beyond the doors near the nurse's station. She could feel her body struggling to heal itself and replenish what she had lost. She had diminished, and she could feel it. Emily loved humans, and always had, but what she was now was less than who she really was. Despite swearing to protect and defend humans, she knew she was not one of them but was, in fact, of a higher species. Whether it was a freak evolution trait or she really was the only one of her kind, she didn't know. However, she was above human.

Emily inhaled shakily for a moment and realized a change in the room. It wasn't the air, or the light. She inhaled once more, the tickling sensation running along the bridge of her nose and across her chin as she felt her eyes well with tears once more. "Oh Dean." She mumbled, looking slightly over her right shoulder. "I can feel you." She closed her eyes tightly, a stray tear slipping down her cheek. "I can't hear you, but I feel you. You can't die on us Dean. You have to stay alive. I've already lost too much and you and Sam…" She paused as a sob rose from her throat. "You're all I have left." There were a few moments where he seemed to remain before his presence disappeared, Emily looking forward once more to view the stars. She was surprised that Sam had not returned with the book, her hand gently hovering over the scorch mark on her chest. She paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder to check that her room door was closed. She didn't have time to lick her wounds and cry. This self-pity and helpless act was getting her nowhere.

Emily stood shakily, using the small window ledge to support herself as she stood before the window. She inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times before accepting what she had to do. She brought her right hand up, looking at her nails real closely. They were just long enough to do the job. Suddenly, she brought the nails down on the edge of the scorch mark, digging mercilessly into the flesh before ripping it off. Emily cried out as the skin was torn from muscle, the damning mark not easily giving up its place. With one swift final tear, the circle of flesh detached from her body, the brunette throwing it to the ground where it quickly ignited into flames and disappeared. White light, low and soft at first, began to shine from the wound. It ignited within a blink of the eye and fully engulfed Emily, the girl crying out once more as it overcame her, lighting up the entire courtyard with its magnificence. As quickly as it had begun, the white light faded, Emily falling like a ragdoll to the floor. She sighed softly, her fresh wound now a circular scar above her collarbone. She felt the strength return to her legs and arms as her heart rate increased with her blood pressure. She moaned softly and sat up slowly, allowing her body to readjust itself. She moved and leaned against the wall, her arms lying motionless at her sides as she looked up at the ceiling. She brought her right hand up, looking at the bandages that covered her palm inquisitively. "What am I?" she whispered, her jaw having fully regained function. The heard the door disengage and looked up, three nurses running into the room quickly. The male nurse, an admittedly hunky human male of approximately thirty years of age hurriedly scooping her up and laying her back on the bed delicately. "Be gentle with me." She teased, earning a smile from him. "If I had been in real danger, I would probably be dead right now." The comment was a direct shot to the evening shift nurse at the foot of her bed, Emily's eyebrow rising with harsh exaggeration on her life being potentially at risk.

"Pfft. What's with the hoodie?" Emily sent a short-lived sarcastic smile and laugh up to Sam before looking back to see John standing in the doorway. "They're looking for me, ok? If I let them examine me this morning, there would've been questions. So I stole some jeans and a shirt from the women's locker room. Whatever." Her hurried, petulant response was almost predictably Emily and, from John's brief smirk, he knew all too well. He seemed sad and distant but she did not question it when he requested for her to give Dean and him a few moments. The exchange he had with Sam in those few brief seconds, practically begging for his son not to argue right now, she felt confused about it but there was nothing to be done. She moved into the hall with Sam and turned to him. "I'm going to return to Bobby's. I can't stay in this hospital for much longer without getting found out. Promise me you two will return to Bobby's once Dean is discharged?" she asked, her eyes glimmering in the fluorescent lights. "We will head back as soon as we can." Emily smiled then and headed off the opposite direction, heading towards a flight of stairs. She had a pit, in her stomach, about Dean. What had brought him back so quickly? Sam had told her there was a reaper after him but Reapers weren't exactly all about giving people a second chance at life. John's mood, Dean's inexplicable rejuvenation, she feared the worse but John would never have done anything so stupid. She reached the basement, needing some privacy if she was going to teleport. Or at least try to. Since the night before, she had felt her inhuman powers flowing under her skin, tickling every sensation she had. Maybe she had finally found the balance between being human and not. "You! What're you doing here?" Emily kind of ducked her head, as if she had been caught drawing on the walls. "You aren't supposed to be down here." The man's voice was demanding and she could hear him as he approached she turned and saw a flash of his true face. She cried out as Yellow-Eyes slammed her against the wall behind her, holding her firmly by the shoulders. "In fact, you shouldn't be Down Here at all, should you?" His eyes flowed from human hazel to demonic yellow. She pushed her arm up and grabbed his throat, a pale white light from beneath her hand showing as he was forced to release her, his face expressing pain. "I can't kill you now…But so help me god, I will." She hissed, the light growing brighter, forcing Yellow-Eyes to disappear. She lowered her hands and paused, looking to where the demon had stood. She felt it, the power. When she had touched him, it seemed to instinctively overtake her as if killing him was what she was meant to do. She thought of Bobby's then and, in one swift moment, disappeared into thin air, all the while ignoring that pit in her stomach.

[[APRIL FOOLS! No, but seriously. I'm sorry it took me so long to post this. With Bobby and what happened in the new season, I kind of flipped out. But I'm back and writing again! You should see a new chapter no later than April 15th. Thanks for sticking with me here. I know you must have thought I disappeared! I know you missed me! See you on the 15th – Ichi]]


	21. Everybody Loves a Clown

Supernatural

"The Other Side of the Tracks"

Everybody Loves a Clown

"I'm sorry Sam. Did you actually say a killer clown?" While it was hard to hear Sam's muffled voice over the phone anyway, she was sure he had mentioned a killer clown. His voice and confirmation made it clear he didn't believe it either. "I swear, I leave for five seconds and you boys get more interesting cases than I have." She buried the shovel into the fresh earth of a recently buried individual, Markus Vrekoff, as Sam made idle conversation with her. She was clothed in some dark brown, thick overalls and a long sleeve blue shirt. She had a fur hat that cover her ears and framed her face, making it almost childish in appearance. On the side of the grave, she had left a thick coat, with a plaid design and fur neckline. "Well, I tracked a pack of Wolves in Austria and now I'm taking care of a local haunting. This guy that I'm digging up has been haunting an entire city for a little less than a year. Yeah, I know. Causing suicides and damage, murders, you know typical, ghost-y stuff. But I'm surprised at the cell phone reception out here. I mean, I couldn't even call when I got to Moscow. Now I'm standing in the middle of nowhere, knee deep in a grave, and I have reception." As her body moved to make the repetitious motion of shovelling away dirt, she hesitated, hearing Sam speaking in hushed tones regarding John's death. "Sam, Dean doesn't want to have his hand held and walked through this. I know this is hard and we will figure out what happened but, in the meantime, just let him work and figure it out for himself. My main concern is that, when he does actually face the pain, something or someone might get hurt so keep an eye on him."

As Emily turned back to her business, she saw Markus standing above her, looking down on her with creepy ghost eyes. She looked at him oddly, tilting her head slightly to one side, just before her attempted to grab her and disappeared. "Salt water bath, bitch!" she yelled, dancing a bit in the grave. "Oh, sorry Sam, that ghost just tried to attack me but I soaked my clothes in holy water and salt before I came out. Yeah, I know! Good plan, right?" Suddenly she heard Dean enter the room. All she could hear is _'Is that Emily? Give me the phone!'_ Emily laughed as Dean appeared to muscle his way onto the phone. "Hey Dean." She greeted, feeling cold suddenly as the ghost was making yet another appearance around her. "Alright dad. Do you also want me home by eleven?" She asked. Being away from Dean was always the same: she would call Sam to avoid Dean; Dean would find out, Dean would demand to know where she was, when she was coming back, and every other question one could think of. She felt the gust of an attacking ghost as it vanished. "I'm hanging up now." She stated with a smile on her face. _"Just hurry back…" _ Her face went a bit solemn for a moment. "I always do." She murmured in response, quickly hitting the end call button on her phone and tossing it onto her jacket. The rules of the game had changed, that was for sure. She was feeling like she had a family with Sam and Dean and every time one of them missed her, it broke her heart and made her miss them. Her shovel sounded as it connected with the coffin, the wood being revealed as rotted as she scraped the dirt away. Once she had opened it and revealed the body, the brunette hopped out of the hole, throwing the salt and lighter fluid in, thoroughly dousing the body. The ghost made his final appearance, staring her down. "Look, I get it: You're alone with no one able to hear you. You're scared and angry. But it's time to look for greener pastures. Maybe, this way, you can." Why she was trying to talk down an angry spirit, she didn't know. She lit a match and tossed it in, the body catching fire real quickly. It was a fairly anti-climactic end to her job but the spirit was vanquished. She pushed some of the dirt back into the grave, not bothering with it too much. Someone else would take care of it. Or maybe that was the 'lazy American' attitude taking over. One way or another, she slung her shovel over her shoulder, grabbed her phone and jacket, and left.

Emily had intended to just buy a ticket for a flight on the way home but, somehow, she knew she had to visit Angela. She had been teleporting her way across West Asia and all of Europe until, finally, she reached the little historical site where Angela and others were buried. The grass where she normally stood was brown and dead in the shape of two footprints. Emily moved forward and took her usual spot, her feet filling the marks perfectly. It was kind of cold in England today so she was happy she had her Russian fur hat on still. She wrapped one arm around her slim waist and the other cross over and held her shoulder. "We never move on but we learn to live with the pain. I've learned to live with the pain of losing you." She murmured quietly. "I love you but I'm beginning to become part of a family now. Maybe…Maybe one day, I could even…" She stopped herself, knowing having another child could never happen for her. How could she face the slightest chance of losing her baby. She would never recover. And who could she have it with? Not a human. Everything in the world was a monster these days. She sighed and smiled a bit to herself. "Well, let's not go too far, I suppose. I didn't bring you flowers, darling." Emily crouched down and gently kissed her finger tips before placing them against the gravemarker. "I've been spending a little too much time in graveyards lately." Angela's name was very worn down from the last few centuries of erosion but it was still clear to Emily as she traced out the letters with her finger. Emily didn't want to be sad but she felt as though she couldn't go on with life without remembering Angela and visiting her. Every time she said it was the last time she would visit. But it never was. She lost her daughter but the pain was as fresh as the soil beneath her nails. "Well, I love you, baby. I'll see you next time." She looked to her left and right quickly, as if she were checking before crossing the road, and then the spot was empty, leaving only the two footprint marks behind.

Emily sat on the porch with Bobby as she listened to Dean destroying the Impala, having happily shed her heavy Russian clothes and was now wearing just jeans and a green tank top. She couldn't see him but she could hear the metal hitting metal and feel the desperate rage that had been brewing in him since before she had returned. It seemed to come to a boiling point just minutes after she saw him again. He had given her the fastest, most painful hug she had ever experienced. But she took it, knowing and feeling where he was. Losing John and visiting Angela so soon was a mistake but, at least she could perfectly emphasize. "Beer?" she asked, holding up a bottle as Sam soundlessly approached from behind. Sam's mind was so overwhelming that she had to focus to shut him out. She remembered why she had left only moments after returning. She could withstand her grief but not everyone else's. The cold bottle left her hand in a rush, the metal cap falling and clattering against the wooden planks of the deck. Then, miraculously, the noises stopped and Emily stood, moving towards where Dean and the now busted Impala would be. _"Em, don't."_ She gently motioned for Sam to Stop and smiled to Bobby. She knew what she was doing. As she disappeared from sight, she allowed her feet to drag a little in the dirt, kicking small dust clouds into the air as she moved. She rounded the corner and saw Dean, his face taut and full of grief. She moved over to the car, the older Winchester barely acknowledging her, and hopped onto the trunk, her rump fitting perfectly into a groove. She just sat for a few moments, allowing him to recover a bit. "The cost of life is death, Dean." He looked up at her as if she had shocked him, his eyes wide. "We all have to pay up eventually." There were three silent seconds where Emily's face stayed completely still and empathetic as Dean looked at her like she ran over his puppy. Finally, he moved over to her and embraced her, his head resting against her chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders as she rested her head on his.

[[Sorry about the short chapter. I didn't have much planned for the characters in this chapter. See you later – Ichi]]


	22. Bloodlust

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Bloodlust"

Emily felt chipper sitting in the backseat of the Impala, Sam cracking jokes at Dean's almost romantic attachment to his treasured car. Emily had tied her dark brown hair into a tight bun at the back of her skull, her shorter bangs blowing around her cheeks in the wind as a sweet smile slipped onto her lips. Her eyes lit up, flecks of gold catching the bright sunshine as it poured into the car. "Who would have known all we needed to cheer Dean up is a cattle mutilation and beheading case?" She joked, looking at Sam as he chuckled before glancing back to the papers in her lap. Dean was in better spirits than she had ever seen him in. Since she had known the two of them, Dean had never let himself be too happy, as if he had been holding himself back from getting too attached to the good things in life. She couldn't blame him. After all, the good things in life were rare glimmers in the lives of hunters. But she had to admit, as she looked out the window into the passing scenery, this was one of her good days too. "So, I don't believe its human Satanists, guys." She pointed out, looking into the rear-view to meet Dean's eyes. "What? Humans don't generally do stupid things like this because they either think they will get caught or are legitimately too apathetic to follow through. Actually, it's a miracle at all that mortals have come as far as they have." Both Winchesters turned very slowly, their expressions almost identical: both had their lids lowered to make their eyes seem almost flat and their lips were tightly pushed together, making them both look at her with disbelief. Dean's hand suddenly reached back and grabbed her knee, tickling it before she could move away. Sam used his mobility to grab her and pulled her through the breach between the driver and passenger seats, the three sharing a little laugh. Apparently, it was a good time for all of them. Emily wanted to freeze the picture at that exact moment so she could remember this later on. At least they had a few hundred more miles. She could be thankful for that.

Emily leaned forward, the short pencil skirt and the _slightly_ unbuttoned blouse serving the purpose to distract the sheriff. "Sir, we're only asking because there was a similar case near Tallahassee." The older gentleman with his ferret-like mustache seemed to have difficulty looking away from the cleavage she had just presented. It seemed to distract him enough to calm him. "So, do you think there's a chance the recent events in this town could be satanic in nature?" His eyes caught hers and, as if he could see right through her, he became very suspicious. So much for the twenty bucks she used to buy the super deluxe push up bra. Emily was pleased with her set up as far as her breasts went but she didn't exactly turn heads and that was required here. He suddenly asked which paper they were from, Emily quickly hiding her surprise as she realized that was a detail they hadn't gone over previously. As the brothers stumbled over an answer, Emily leaned back in her chair, gently placing two fingers at the center of her forehead. As the sheriff seemingly struggled to get his temper in check and demanded they leave, Emily mutter a quick 'Yes sir' and swung out of her chair, briskly walking out of the building with the brothers in tow.

"Wow. That was a serious oversight on our part." Emily muttered to herself, standing in the bathroom with the door open. She stripped off her blouse and unhooked the torturous push up bra, stripping the colourful sleek fabric off and disappearing deeper into the bathroom. "Well, we should probably head over to the coroner's now." Emily said, pulling on a simple black bra and gently hooking it up, carefully avoiding the tenderized flesh that the $20 waste of money left behind. Dean and Sam were having a discussion regarding the beheadings while they waited for her, being sure to be loud enough that she could hear too. She pulled on the blouse once more and buttoned it up, grabbing the blazer off the sink and heading out into the main room. "I bet ten bucks to both of you that this is not Satanists." She offered, smiling at the two brothers. Dean seemed eager to take that bet but didn't say a word as he stood. She slipped the black blazer on and nodded to them, the three heading out into the dry Montana heat to find out more about the mutilations and murders.

Emily laughed to herself as 'Jeff' bailed out the room, Dean having messed up his name yet still got off scot-free. She pulled out the retractable metal table with the headless corpse on it, the distinctly female legs uncovered. As she pulled on the plastic gloves, she turned to Sam as Dean grabbed the 'head box' and set it on a nearby table. "Hey Sam, cough." She joked, gently flexing her hand. Sam's uncomfortable expression was enough to get Dean to laugh. The three stood around the table and looked down at the head. The brothers murmured their vague sympathies and took a few extra moments deciding who should shove their hands down the girl's throat. Finally, when Sam turned it to her, she just looked up at him with a disapproving stare and he turned it back towards himself, hesitantly going searching for 'the moth from Silence of the Lambs'. Emily began to hum 'Goodbye Horses' until something caught her eye as Sam was pulling his hand out. _"Sam, open her mouth back up."_ Sam verbalized his hesitancy, threatening to vomit if he had to do that again. "No, I saw it too." Emily's hand went into the bucket and pulled the upper lip away, revealing several holes in her gums. All three looked at it oddly until Dean poked the hole and a retractable fang popped out. _"Well, this changes things…"_ Emily rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Well, at least we know what we're looking for." The plastic band snapped slightly as the brunette stripped off her glove. "And someone owes me ten bucks."

Emily stared down the hunter Dean had pushed to the wall with a blade, getting the worst vibes from this guy. After showing them that he was fangless, Dean lowered his weapon and the four of them stood awkwardly while introductions were made. She didn't give him anything more than her nickname, still pretty wary around other hunters. After all, she was technically their prey. Luckily, Gordon was pretty distracted by Sam and Dean's namesake that left her to move beneath his radar. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her worn out jeans, the misty rain dampening her slightly curled hair. After making the briefest of small talk, Gordon gladly blew them off, allegedly not being one to play nice with others. Emily frowned slightly, surprised at how that guy not only knew of them but knew great detail. She just hoped he would overlook her entirely. As he drove away, Emily allowed a shiver to trace out her spine. "We should follow him." She said, her expression and tone completely emotionless. Sam and Dean looked back at her oddly. "I don't have a good feeling about him. He seems, like, evil." Dean scoffed and headed back to the car but her connection to Sam allowed her to see that he was getting the same vibe. "He's in danger Dean. We'd better help." Dean slowed and turned. _"He made it pretty clear he didn't want out help."_ Emily frowned and put her hands on her slim hips. "When has that ever made a difference?"

Emily ran up the metal grate stairs, taking them two at a time. She was the first to reach Gordon and grabbed his legs, quickly pulling the man from the risk of the chainsaw. She left him to Sam and ran over to help Dean, smashing the vampire into the rod the older Winchester was wielding as a weapon before slamming him onto the saw table. She held the makeshift stake in place as Dean used the fast moving blades to slice through the soft flesh of the vampire's throat, blood splashing over hers and Dean's face. She looked up at Dean, the fresh red blood trailing down from beneath her eyes made it seem like she was crying blood. She looked over at Sam just as Dean had, the younger Winchester looking to both of them as Gordon jovially insisted that he buy them a drink now. She realized then that she was panting and turned away from the saw, heading towards the stairs, Dean beginning to move shortly after. As she began to descend the stairs, a hand caught her shoulder. She turned, expecting to see Sam, and saw Gordon's face. _"That was one hell of a move. I've never seen a female hunter do that much damage."_ The comment wasn't sexist. He was actually implying that she had just interested him, and that wasn't a good thing. She nodded quickly and moved to turn, his hand stopping her again. His eyes roved over her as he held out a hand for her to shake. She paused and looked at her own hands, seeing all the red blood that was smudged there. "Sorry. Wouldn't want to make a mess." She murmured, holding up her hands. She quickly started moving down the stairs once more as Sam and Dean moved behind Gordon. Upon reaching the Impala, Sam joined her as Dean made arrangements at Gordon's car to meet at the bar they had been at. _"What's wrong with you?"_ Emily turned to look at him, surprise written all over his face. "He's evil, Sam. I hate to say it but sometimes hunters themselves are just as bad as what they hunt. I am getting rubbed the wrong way about this entire case. Just…Just keep your eyes open, ok? Try to see him for what he is because Dean obviously can't right now."

Emily turned away from Sam as Dean approached the car and leaned in through the passenger side window, grabbing her bag and pulling a small green towel from the front pocket. She wiped her face off, getting most of the blood off before handing it to Dean who seemed so happy, he might as well have been shitting rainbows. She wanted to avoid any more interaction with Gordon but, in order to figure out why he was giving her bad feelings, she couldn't necessarily do that. So, when Dean announced that they would be joining him for drinks, Emily didn't argue. She climbed into the car and tied her hair up into a ponytail, grabbing another green towel from her bag and a bottle of water, delicately cleaning off her jacket and the rest of her skin as they drove back to the bar where they had met Gordon in the first place. It seemed a little bit busier than before when they arrived but Gordon had already found them a table. Emily took a seat across from him in between Sam and Dean, grabbing her pint of beer as it was brought to her by the waitress. Gordon was overly enthusiastic, that was for sure, but Emily and Sam stayed primarily silent as Dean and Gordon shared the super manly exchange regarding the kill. She emptied half of her glass before she realized it and held it in her hand as her arms was supported by the armrest of the chair, her five fingers gripping the rim. Gordon made a bad move almost immediately by calling Sam 'Sammy'. Even Emily had stopped that. Had she not said anything to him before they came here, she was sure Sam wouldn't have been so abrasive towards Gordon. However, he didn't falter and quickly apologized, earning Emily's undivided attention. While Gordon insisted he was only trying to enjoy a job well done, Sam quickly retorted that beheadings weren't really a celebratory situation with him. Emily's grip tightened on the glass at Gordon's next comment: _"Oh come on man. It's not like it was human."_ Sam looked to Emily then and she just looked at the table, suddenly very fascinating about a divot in the wood, probably made by some jackass redneck with a knife. "I'll be at the bar." She said, abruptly finishing her beer and heading towards where the waitress and bartender were standing, the two flirting across the worn wood. "Could you mix your five strongest liquors into a glass for me please?" she requested, sitting at one of the stools.

Emily had to admit, she felt pretty betrayed that Dean had begun to buy into Gordon's black and white talk. She was proof that the world was in shades of grey. She wasn't human and she wasn't evil. Gordon was human, and she'd bet her life that he was evil. As Emily sat on the Impala, listening to the vile crap pouring out of Dean's mouth, her heart ached suddenly. _"If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story."_ Emily slipped off the hood of the car. "Are you kidding me? You easily-impressionable sack of crap!" Emily moved over and pushed Dean aside. "Have you forgotten? I'm not human!" she yelled, thanking her stars that the parking lot was empty. Dean looked down at her with a grim look on his face. "Was the whole plan to use me and waste me later?" she asked quietly, her eyes filling up a little bit with tears as images from that morning in the car filled her mind. She turned away and leaned against the car again, Sam insisting that Dean was trying to fill the hole inside of him left by John with a substitute. Dean slugged Sam right across the face but Emily did not move, fearing that the betrayal would take her over. The brothers moved into the hotel room but paused in the doorway where she could see them. "He probably isn't there. And he probably took the keys…" Her fears were confirmed when the two came back outside and the three loaded into the car, Emily completely silent in the back seat as Sam pulled out a map. She could feel Dean, after he hotwired the car, trying to meet her eyes but she wouldn't allow it. The ride was insanely awkward but Emily was far too pissed to care. Sam wouldn't look at Dean, Dean wouldn't look at Sam, and Emily couldn't even acknowledge either of them.

Emily hurried out of the car, entering the house and the dining room at the same time as the brothers. Gordon was torturing the female vampire who Emily assumed was the head of the nest. Emily moved to stop Gordon but Dean's hand grabbed her upper arm, the motion restraining her temporarily. Gordon was sick and disgusting. She wanted to cut his throat. It was the first time she had met another supernatural creature who wasn't evil. Well, the first time in a long time. She wasn't able to save Legra, whom she had met in Alexandria, Egypt. Everything seemed to happen fairly quickly up until Gordon tested the vampire with Sam's blood, Lenore overcoming that and resisting her natural urge to feed. With the weak state she was in, that blew Emily's mind that she could resist still. Emily moved over and grabbed the female vampire and carried her out with Sam, getting her into her truck before sending Sam away. "Lenore. Is that your name?" The weak fang looked at her, her eyes filled with pain. "I'm going to offer you some of my blood. It'll drain the toxins from you faster and heal you better than human blood." The vampire looked at her weakly and she shook her head. "This doesn't make you weak. Your nest needs you at your best." She pulled out a small knife from her ankle and cut her arm before coating the blade in her blood. She watched as Lenore reverted enough to lick the blood and began to heal at an alarming rate. Blood, she could only assume was dead man's blood, began to seep out of her cuts as Emily re-sheathed the blade. "You have a good life, Lenore. I hope we don't meet again." She smiled at her and pulled herself out of the car, heading inside to grab the rest of the boxes.

Emily stood outside the house as the brothers came out, Dean looking worse for wear. Dean stopped, mid conversation, and asked Sam to return the punch he had given him. Sam declined, saying Dean had already gotten the crap knocked out of him. Emily moved over and drove her fist, with no warning, into Dean's cheek, laying the older Winchester flat on his ass. "You deserve worse." She mentioned, holding her hand out for him to take. He accepted as she pulled him back up and headed towards the Impala. _"I wish we had never taken this job. I mean, over the years with all the jobs we've done, how many things have we killed that didn't deserve killing."_ Emily frowned and looked across the roof at Sam as he justified John's errors, had he made any. Sam was right, in the end. Hunters rarely have experiences that alter their perception of black and white. Dean had this amazing chance to look at himself and Emily was happy, surprisingly, that this is what they had experienced. As Sam slipped into the car, Dean looked down at Emily, looking at her as if he could see into her soul. With wordless regret, they just looked at each other, her golden flecked chocolate orbs staring straight into his hazel ones. "Dean…"

[[Hope you enjoyed this one! I certainly liked writing it. I always did like this episode because you just know that Gordon's going to be an asshole in the future. It has to happen. Anyway, see you in two weeks! – Ichi]]


	23. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things"

Emily sat awkwardly in the back of the Impala, her small hands clasped delicately in her lap as Sam and Dean went back and forth on visiting their mother. It was hard to get a handle on what Dean was actually feeling: at one moment, he wanted to be as far from Mary's grave as possible and then in the next moment, he didn't want to go to the Roadhouse alone. Emily chose to remain silent, however, seeing as this was not her business. She thought Sam was right and thought this was healthy, personally. Sam seemed to be doing ok in comparison to Dean, who was a train wreck, she was sure. There had been a moment, after Dean took out his anger on the Impala, where Emily thought he was going to be okay. She had held him against her like that for nearly an hour, just allowing him to recover a little bit. He didn't cry. He just stood there. He never mentioned it, nor did she. She snapped back into reality as Dean took a turn into a graveyard. Upon finally parking, Emily got out of the car with them and silently leaned against the car as Sam moved towards their mother's grave alone, clearly about to grieve. Dean, however, moved away from Mary's grave and the Impala, and started wandering around the cemetery, looking at random graves. Emily shoved her hands into her jean pockets, the faded fabric nearly giving way at the slight movement. She wore a simple red t-shirt with baby doll sleeves and her hair was down in loose, messy curls around her slim shoulders. She wore no make-up, as per usual, and just gave off a feeling of simplistic elegance. Emily seemed as though she was from a different time which, technically, she really was.

Dean was hovering over a grave, which Emily noticed was surrounded by dead grass and flowers. It didn't take Dean long to track down the groundskeeper and politely ask information. Emily soon joined the two men, standing inside the perfectly formed circle of dead plants. As if she were on a hunt, Emily's brain started running through the possibilities as if she were looking for a phone number in a rolodex. If it was supernatural, she could only think of so many things it could be. Sam soon joined them but, when he looked down at Emily, she knew he wasn't pleased. While having a link to Sam's mind seemed helpful, it was hard to weed out what he wanted to say. Thoughts, especially his, did not function the same way speaking did. Thoughts were word jumbles and feelings but, from what she could make out of Sam's mind, he was mad at her for agreeing with Dean and letting him be distracted. Emily shook her head at Sam and faced the ground, not knowing how to take that. Dean found something that could very well be a hunt while he was avoiding facing their mother's headstone.

Emily sat on the bed just outside the bathroom as Sam and Dean argued about whether or not this was a hunt and whether or not this was about Dean and Mary's grave. She hadn't joined them for the visit with her dad, citing an excuse. In all honesty, she just wasn't comfortable with it. Emily didn't know what they had in terms of a case and she had remained impartially silent all day. Dean was on one end, pulling at this being a case while Sam stood on the other side, pulling that it was Dean not dealing with his emotions. Emily just sat in the middle, not really feeling one way or the other. There was something bizarre about it, maybe supernatural, but Emily couldn't be sure. It was clear Dean was holding in his emotions, but to what extent, really? Finally, Dean just left, saying he was going to go for a drink alone, making it clear that neither she nor Sam were welcome. Sam looked flustered and sat on the bed beside Emily, the two not facing each other. The room was eerily silent as the two sat awkwardly beside each other. "You shouldn't push him." Emily finally said, clasping her hands together once more. "You shouldn't encourage him." Emily looked up at Sam as he looked down at her, their eyes locking. "Maybe we need to sit this one out unless he wants us."

Dean just came in at an awkward time. Emily had switched on Casa Erotica a few hours prior for absolutely no reason and Sam had just kind of sat at the foot of the bed as if he had never seen low grade porn before. Neither of them did anything, not that Emily would waste her energy with that smut, but Dean just came in and Sam quickly flipped the TV off with the remote, making Emily chuckle slightly. However, Dean came in with a purpose and began to spitefully list off the things that made this a real case, only serving to humour Sam. "Wow. Slit his own throat? That's bold." She commented offhand, earning an odd look from Dean. She shrugged and watched as he grabbed the girl's diary. Sometimes, she wondered if, even while investigating the person's death and afterlife, they got a little too personal.

It wasn't long before the three of them wound up at her best friend's place. Neil, while calm on the surface, was distinctly evasive. Perhaps Sam and Dean didn't notice it but Emily got the distinct impression that Neil was vengeful. He seemed to hate Matt, that was for sure. After a short discussion with her friend, Emily found herself on the warpath to Angela's grave, the three intending to dig up the fresh corpse of Angela and light it on fire. It seemed so barbaric but it was nothing they hadn't done before. It was just a little different because there was still flesh all over the place. However, Emily was lucky enough to win Rock Paper Scissors against Sam, which meant she got to hold the flashlight and not dig up the fresh grave. The smell, that she expected to be putrid, was not so. In fact, beyond soil, there was not much of a smell at all. The surprise didn't affect her as much as it did the brothers, simply because, in the few moments before they opened her grave, Emily knew her body was gone. Where it had gone, she had no idea. She moved to the other side of the grave as the flashlights highlighted markings in ancient Greek. Emily's Greek was a little rusty so, when Dean looked up at her expectantly, she shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't spoken or read ancient Greek in thousands of years, guys. Don't give me that look." Dean chuckled quietly. "Well, I know someone who has."

After looking it over a few times, Emily had remembered the rituals that the markings were connected with. A lot of Greek mystics used similar kinds of symbols for their rituals but this one had something to do with necromancy. Standing at the door, looking at the man who was grieving his daughter, Emily did not believe this man was guilty of anything. He was just grieving. Unfortunately, Dean was clearly on the hunt for blood and before Emily could blink, they were inside the house, watching Dean spin out of control. He was yelling and demanding answers. Emily was freaked out, if not scared, and she could feel Sam's emotions as they mirrored her own. The three hurried from the father's home, hurried walking away to avoid the police he was inevitably going to call. Finally, they stopped and Emily watched silently as Sam begged Dean to stop and voiced his fears about losing Dean. Sam motioned to her and, instead of instinctively asking to be kept out of it, Emily grabbed Dean's coat sleeve, bringing him to a halt with her small hand. The look he gave her was actually more emotional than she thought it would be. Sam continued, trying to drive home the point that Dean did not have to face this ache of loss and guilt alone. The whole while, Emily's eyes remained locked on his, as if their souls were pouring from them. Dean attempted to dismiss both of them until Emily tightened her grasp on his sleeve, wordlessly begging for him to just listen and let them be there. Pushing Dean wasn't the way to get him to open up. Anyone who knew Dean would know that, when it comes to emotions, he has to come to you. Unfortunately, he was never going to come to Sam or Emily about John's death. He didn't know how to cope with the loss of the man he looked up to. John was an immortal to Dean. John was never supposed to die. "We lost dad. We've lost mom. I've lost Jessica. She's lost Angela." Sam gestured to her as Dean's confused expression reminded her that she had never mentioned Angela to Dean. Sam had kept it a secret. Sam shook his head and recovered quickly. "Do we have to lose you too?" Emily's heart pounded furiously in her chest, her blood rushing in her ears making it hard to hear. Dean relented, finally, and admitted that he was being an ass but made it clear that the zombie they had on their hands took priority now.

The trip back to the motel was mainly silent but once they arrived, the brainstorming became frustrating. "I could consult my texts but zombie lore is insane, especially with today's culture and the modern fascinations. Zombies and 'Z-Day' are insanely popular facets of pop-culture. Back in my day, the walking undead was a legitimate fear." Dean and Sam both gave her looks, and she knew how weird it sounded when a woman who didn't look much past her mid-twenties spoke as if she was insanely old. "What? It was! I remember when people used to get all uppity about Dracula and those types of Fangs." The brothers rolled their eyes before Sam began to go through the lore on zombies with the room, John's journal containing many different methods of killing them. "Silver. Silver is one of the things I recall working. Zombies weren't common at any point when I was a hunter. Its heavy hoodoo that no one wanted to get involved in."

Emily remained fairly elusive as Dean shot Angela into her grave, Dean sliding like a star baseball player into the grave and staking the zombie girl, effectively ending her terrible afterlife. Emily stood from behind the headstone and holstered her pistol, walking towards the grave where Angela lay. "Did I miss it all?" she joked, smiling to Sam who was cradling his hand. She cast her eyes down to Dean who was panting lightly and returned her smile. She grabbed a shovel from its resting place on the tombstone next door and held it up. "Now time for the easy part." Sam walked over and she waved him away. "I wouldn't want to hurt your delicate hand any further. You can just go sit over there and wait for mommy and daddy to finish." She teased, leaning down and offering Dean and helping hand out of the hole. She hoisted Dean out and immediately began to shove the dirt back in after closing the lid of the coffin, hoping to finish quickly.

The ride out of town was silent and it wasn't until the Impala was well down a two lane backwoods highway that anything happened. Emily watched as Dean pulled off the road on the opposite side of the highway and got out, Sam and Emily closing following. The older Winchester leaned against the front bumper of the Impala, looking out at nothing in particular, as Sam and Emily stood off to the passenger side of the hood, Emily stand closer to the bumper. She had pulled on her light black jacket on the ride and now just stood silently as Dean seemed to gather his thoughts, visibly struggling to reveal how he was feeling. Suddenly, as the climax of it all, Dean murmured 'I'm Sorry'. Both Emily and Sam were taken aback, Emily's surprise, however, was less visible. Sam moved around Emily and leaned against the Impala beside his older brother. Suddenly, it started coming out. _"And for dad."_ Emily listened as Dean made it clear he knew John was dead because of him. How Dean had nearly been dead and, suddenly, John died just as Dean was miraculously recuperated. Despite Sam trying to make him understand that he doesn't blame him, Dean just shook it off. _"You and dad. You are the most important people in my life. I never should have come back, Sam. It wasn't natural."_ There was a painful pause as Emily's heart felt like it stopped beating. _"And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead."_ Emily's heart broke as she watched Dean's eyes fill with tears of remorse and sadness. _"So tell me: What could you possibly say that would make that alright?"_ Emily turned and leaned her body against the Impala, her back facing them as the three stood in silence. She understood now. And Dean was right. There were no words that would make it ok for him. So, they stood in silence.

[[Sorry about the delay, guys! I was at a ComicCon all weekend and then had some little life drama. All is good now! Here's the chapter. Sorry it's kind of boring. I dragged my feet for most of it because, as far as I'm concerned, it's only good in the last three minutes. Sorry! It's just how I feel. Anyway, I feel like rushing a bit because the newer season is where this story really gets going so, at one point, you'll probably see multiple chapters go up at one time or spaced over a couple days. If that isn't the next chapter, my next post date is the 29th. Happy reading! – Ichi.]]


	24. Simon Said

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"Simon Said"

Emily listened to Sam's raging mind, pain leaking in through his emotions. She could nearly see what he was seeing but the pain was too much. Dean stood beside her outside the shabby corner store bathroom door, his hand hold her shoulder as she gripped her forehead, willing the pain to stop. Dean was frantic until she muttered 'Sam', drawing Dean's attention from her to his brother in the bathroom. He moved quickly but attempted to remain level headed, urging his brother to 'zip up' before noticing that something was wrong with him as well. Emily leaned in, squinting despite the darkness of the rotten bathroom, her head throbbing with agony. She caught Sam's eyes in the mirror before another wave of white pain nearly put her on her ass. Sam looked afraid and Emily could feel it. Dean, however, was just confused and looked between her and Sam as if they had answers. Finally, after not receiving answers, Dean picked Emily up and carried her to the car, Sam struggling behind them to focus. Emily whimpered quietly, having never experienced anything like that before. She had a headache once back in '53 but this was so extreme. Sam's constitution was way higher than hers because she wasn't meant to be experiencing it.

Dean slipped her into the backseat, lying her down and offering her a shirt of his that was poking out of a bag on the floor to cover her eyes. She waved it away and he shut the door, Emily moving to curl up in the backseat. Emily wasn't meant to see these things or feel as Sam was. Like it was fighting off an intruder, Sam's visions attacked her mind, skewering her brain with shots of pain. It took a while for it to pass entirely but, when it did, Emily almost cried in relief. It was around sunset when they finally decided to go to the Roadhouse and, after driving into the night, Dean finally voiced his concerns about it, citing that since other hunters would be around, revealing that he had visions with a demon connection wasn't a good thing, using the ill-timed word 'freak'. Sam, with the state he was in, reacted poorly but Dean merely came back with _"You've always been a freak."_ Emily leaned up from the backseat. "Sorry guys but I think we're all freaks. Just sayin'." Dean looked back at her oddly to which she shrugged and leaned back, looking out at the road as it passed, feeling so comfortable with driving at night.

Emily stepped into the roadhouse behind Dean and ahead of Sam just as she shrugged on her black leather jacket. She watched as all the paranoid eyes of hunters fell on them and slipped her hands beneath her hair, pulling it out from under the jacket and moving towards the proprietor of the Roadhouse: Ellen. "Hey Ellen." She greeted casually, pulling up a stool to the bar as Dean made the shortest of small talk with Jo. _"Well, it's certainly nice to see you lot in here. Beer?"_ Emily nodded eagerly as Ellen pulled up a cold beer and twisted the cap off. She turned her head slightly and watched the Winchesters head into the back to grab Ash. _"Sure do have a fire lit under them tonight."_ Ellen was fishing for information but Emily shrugged. "Don't they always." She turned her head and looked into the expecting eyes of her friend. "What? It's just a job. We need that genius' gifts. Well, 'genius' I use loosely. Asshat is more my preference." Ellen laughed a soft, feminine kind of laugh that one would not generally expect from such a hardened woman. She had struggled, Emily could see that, and she had been dealt a harsher hand than most but at least she was still able to smile. Emily still remembered how weird it was to smile for the first time after Angela's death. The memory only served to make her realize she had to talk to Dean about it. She could see it had been gnawing at him since Sam's slip of the tongue. _"You're really something, there, Emily."_ Emily did a little bow at the bar as Ellen moved to serve someone else.

Dean and Sam came from the back looking as though Ash had ruined their lives somehow, making Emily quirk a brow. "Dean, how come you -" Dean just held up a hand and shook his head. _"Please don't ask."_ She raised her hands as if she was surrendering and turned back to her beer where Dean would periodically join her in drinking his own while Ash worked his magic.Finally, after enduring a little bit of flirtatious banter between Jo and Dean, Ash turned up a match and Sam rushed the two of them out, Emily able to slip in a quick goodbye before being hustled out of the Roadhouse. Sadly, the song Jo decided to put on the Jukebox by REO Speedwagon got stuck in Dean's head and all he did was hum and sing it for almost 10 minutes before Sam said anything. As if she had been enduring some kind of hell, Emily felt a swell of relief as the three of them were able to focus on Andy Gallagher.

Despite the lack of records on him, he wasn't hard to find. The work address had led them to his old co-workers who seemed to know him quite well. One of them, Webber, came off really strong, stalker-like almost, about his like for Andy. Nevertheless, Sam and Dean took off in the Impala while Emily went to go check the recent news at the library. She was hoping there was nothing to find and that Sam had sensed the first murder but there was no guarantee. The short walk to the library seemed to take ages as she seriously considered the thoughts she received from Sam before they parted. How could he legitimately believe that he could end up like the other psychic children? Sam killed monsters, which is a seriously long cry from hurting and killing people. While she could see the parallel, Sam was too smart to legitimately believe that. Upon arriving at the library, Emily had searched through every article she could find but found no out of the ordinary obituaries. This town was so small and mediocre, at least to her, in that it had absolutely no signs of the supernatural. Like, at all. Everyone and everything appeared normal and, perhaps it was because she had become accustomed to it, that was just weird. She walked out of the library less than half an hour after she entered and held the door for a young woman before her phone rang. She flipped open her phone without looking at the ID. "Dean? Whoa! You did what!"

Emily met the Winchesters outside the gun store where Sam looked like he had been punched in the gut. He seemed distinctly self-hating today. Dean and Emily knew for a fact that Sam could not have prevented it but, nonetheless, Sam seemed intent that it was his fault. Emily grabbed him and hoisted the man off the ground, forcing him to look her dead in the eye by holding his chin. "You did not do this. There are many people that die every day because we can't stop evil. You did not do this to this man." She murmured in a hushed tone, Sam's softening expression telling her that she had snapped him out of it, at least for the time being. "Now," she began, released his face and straightening her shirt around the waist of her pants. "Dean was dumb enough to let Andy steal his most prized possession. Let's go find the Impala and then we'll start working on what to do now, ok?" Dean nodded appreciatively to her and turned to lead the way, heading towards the center of town, hoping to find it there. It, somehow, didn't take long to find the Impala, as if Dean could find her anywhere by sniffing her out. Now that all was right in the world, Dean got right down to what he had deduced from Andy, talking about verbal queues and the limitations of Andy's power. However, Dean genuinely didn't believe Andy was the killer though, despite evidence pointing to him. Emily remained silent, weighing all the options. She crossed her arms over her chest and thought, really thought, about who else it could be. As a psychic who could make people do whatever he wanted, Andy sure didn't have a lot to defend himself with. But, Emily was tempted to side with Dean simply based on what she heard before. Andy seemed like a nice, normal dude who just happened to have super powers. Sam was not so easily convinced but, the simplest way to figure it out was really just to do what they always do.

Like the Impala, Dean sniffed out Andy's van like it was pie, though it really wasn't all that hard to find. Polar bear…amazon, pretty dead giveaways. Dean popped the trunk with a crowbar, opening the world of Andy Gallagher to them. Even Emily had to admit she was both horrified and amazed. Beyond the shag 'pad', there were tons of huge books by authors she had known personally who wrote heavy stuff, things even Emily didn't get into. There was so much conflicting information to take in. Who the hell was this guy? Either way, they closed up the van doors and headed back to the Impala, staking out the van until Andy returned. Dean was a concern simply because he was able to be manipulated. Emily just hoped she was immune. Sitting in the car was boring: Sam was busy going over the information they had gathered and Dean was eating day old burgers and complaining about how he wanted a home cooked meal. "Don't look at me. The only thing I can cook is a big batch of food poisoning." Sam grimaced but went back on his warpath for Andy, convinced they had the right guy. Emily leaned forward in time for the man of the hour to sneak up on them, slamming his hand on the side of the car to scare them. The three of them looked over at him, surprised, as he demanded to know their purpose, Emily catching a bit of an echo on his voice, slightly shocked. Sam proceeded to lie blatantly as Emily looked back at Dean, who had a look on his face that was both priceless and concerning. _"Tell the truth!"_ Emily looked back at Andy as Dean started spouting all of the little details regarding their lifestyle and bowed her head before leaning back in the car and placing her palms on her head as she listened to Dean. At least she wasn't affected. _"Just leave me alone."_ Dean responded with a simple 'Alright' and then leaned away, grasping his head in his hands. Sam did a double take of Dean before hopping out of the car, Emily following closely after, briefly leaning back in. "You're an idiot." She said, shaking her head slightly before following the two psychics, Andy desperately trying to work his mojo on Sam before Sam assured him it would not work.

_"It doesn't seem to work on me Andy."_ Emily stood behind Sam with her hands in her pockets, watching the two move around each other, frowning, Dean finally pulling his useless ass out of the car and standing behind her. She gave them enough room to speak but slowly moved closer after a while. Suddenly, Sam started getting a headache, which nearly brought Emily to her knees, Dean desperately grabbing for her to pull her back up. She grabbed her head and the two moved over to Sam quickly, Emily harnessing the pain as fast as she could, using that motivation to rein it in, supressing it as much as she could. Sam, however, went down, followed closely by Emily, Dean, and Andy. He started muttering sentence fragments about the vision he had, something about a woman killing herself by lighting herself on fire. Andy, trying to piece together what Sam was saying, started asking question but was immediately silenced by Dean's concern for his brother. Sam stood slowly with everyone, Emily holding his left arm to help him up. _"As long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her."_ Emily looked behind them, ducking her head beneath the overhang of an RV as she heard sirens. Andy, however, was just standing there, looking confused. Sam just told Dean to go, knowing it was better to keep the two people who weren't affected by Andy to watch him. Andy went to move but Sam stopped him, Emily moving behind him and sitting on a stack of tires as Sam assured the young man he was not leaving. Andy began to pace in front of her, Emily bringing up her leg to rest on the tire. _"Why aren't you affected?"_ Emily looked up at Andy who was looking at her now. _"Are you one of the psychics the tall one was talking about?"_ Emily smirked a little and shook her head. "Do you want an honest answer?" she asked, smiling, almost wickedly, at him. At Andy's nod, she proceeded to be blunt. "I was born several thousands of years ago at the dawn of human kind. A little mind control doesn't touch me." The psychic's face went pale as Sam spoke up. _"Emily, stop scaring him."_ She snickered softly and looked down at the ground again, waiting to hear back from Dean.

Sam, Emily, and Andy sat down after Dean called, the fact that the three of them were together when this happened pretty much clearing Andy's name. _"Wait so you have premonitions about people about to die. And you are… a lot older than you look?"_ Emily smiled and nodded to him before motioning to Sam. They could learn a lot about each other. And maybe Sam would understand he wasn't a killer. It was actually pretty nice to hear them talk to each other, like something Emily and Dean could never empathize with, Andy could. The rattle of the Impala's engine alerted them to Dean returning, Emily being the first to stand and hear what Dean had for them. Sadly, it was bad either way. Dean implied that the woman who died was Andy's birth mom and, while he never knew her, it was sad tidings. Andy, not to be hindered by the fact that they couldn't get into the hard copies, led them straight to county office and mind bended the old guard while they pulled out the records. So, not only was the woman who burned herself alive his birth mom, he actually had a legit evil twin. Emily felt like she was in a drama or something. This kind of thing never happened in real life. Now the hunt was on for his brother, Anson Weems, who they found out was local. Emily then looked at Sam as Dean approached them with the papers faxed over from the DMV and locked eyes. "I have a sinking feeling…" she trailed off as Dean presented the picture. Andy looked shocked as Webber's face ended up on that page. "Nailed it!" Emily stated, throwing her hands into the air. Andy looked up at her and she recoiled a bit. "Oh…Um, sorry Andy." She stated, gently rubbing the back of her head as she dropped her arms.

Sam had a vision in the car of Andy's ex, Tracy, jumping off the dam just outside of town while they had been driving so, while speeding there, Emily plainly stated that Dean was a hazard to himself and all of them so long as Webber had the same powers Andy did. "I'm immune, Andy is immune, and Sam is immune. What do we do with Dean? He'd have to be out of ear shot." Andy was a genius with his solution. Dean would provide cover with a sniper on the hills around the dam while the three of them would confront Webber and save Tracy. Andy would not be stopped, he was clearly in love with that girl. Emily and Sam ran up to driver's side of the car and smashed the window, demanding that Webber step out. He tried to control them but Sam just punched him and pulled him out of the car, Emily getting a hint of satisfaction from that. Andy pulled Tracy out of the car but, instead of taking her away like he should have, came to kick Webber a couple of times. While Sam was distracted trying to stop Andy, Tracy came up behind them and hit both of the hunters with a huge log, knocking Sam out and splitting the back of Emily's head open, the two falling to the ground. Emily listened as best she could as her head throbbed in pain. She sat against the car as Webber attempted to explain himself out of it. Then, she heard it, just as Sam was coming back. Yellow Eyes was in Webber's head. Emily wanted to pull herself up but she couldn't feel the right side of her body at all. It seemed to happen fast as Webber turned around and walked towards them. He noticed Emily was awake and gave her a swift kick across the face, the copper taste of blood filling her senses as she spewed some across the ground, falling over onto her right side. _"I see you. Bye bye."_ Emily, despite the pain, felt as though she might weep. "Dean…" she whispered, garbled by the blood in her mouth. Suddenly, a gunshot went off and Emily shut her eyes tightly but opened them as Webber fell beside her, his dead eyes looking into her's.

Emily smiled at the paramedic, her face lightly bruised purple and blue with her hair tied in a tight bun to conceal the dried blood. She watched Andy manipulate the cops and couldn't help but smile as she nodded absently to the EMT helping her. Andy moved back over to them and Emily stood, shoving her hands into her jean pockets. Andy was upset, knowing Tracy would never be able to look at him again. Sadly, Andy had just been pulled into a world he could never escape. "I'm sorry, Andy." She murmured, gently patting his arm. Sam offered him his phone number and Emily did likewise, pulling out a small card where her number had been scribbled. The three turned away and headed towards the Impala, Sam spouting nonsense regarding Andy becoming a killer. Finally, Emily just sighed. "Sam, there is a fine line between being a murderer and being a person who is defending themselves and others. There was no way for Webber to survive last night. He couldn't be held in a prison and he would have just kept hurting people. There wasn't any other way for last night to end other than how it did. With Webber dead." Sam looked down at her and frowned. "Don't look at me like that." She climbed in the car as Dean got a call from Ellen.

The three of them pulled up bar stools as Ellen interrogated them, Emily sitting silently with her beer as Sam eagerly spilled the beans on everything, telling the older woman what they were really doing. Dean was afraid for Sam. He was becoming what other hunters would take a crack at. It was the same reason Emily kept to herself at the Roadhouse. Evil would always be a matter of perspective. And humans, in Emily's experience, weren't fond of millennia-old women. Ellen took it surprisingly well, only offering whiskey. Emily looked up as Ellen met her eyes. _"Feel like sharing some secrets there girl?"_ Emily gazed at her and shook her head. "Everybody has a story Ellen. Mine isn't worth telling." Ellen frowned and moved to her next. _"Says the woman who hasn't aged a day since I met her almost 20 years ago."_ Emily looked at the older woman intensely, standing very suddenly. "Don't push me." She said in a strong, assertive tone, her hands braced on the bar. "You'll find out when I know you won't kill me for it." Ellen dropped it and looked back to the Winchesters as Emily did, Dean looking at her with surprise. Emily had been so blunt with Andy, how could she hide it from Ellen? In reality, Ellen was too much of threat with her contacts. Emily didn't live for as long as she had by getting in the crosshairs of other hunters. Though, she had to admit, she was pretty sure Ellen already knew.

[[EEK! Sorry to miss my deadline! This time it was all me forgetting which day I was supposed to post on. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. Andy is probably one of my favourite characters in Supernatural simply because he is so easy going and minimalistic. I love it. Well, I'll see you on the 13th! – Ichi]]


	25. No Exit

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"No Exit"

Emily stood awkwardly at the bar, watching Jo and Ellen go at each other's throats, screaming and yelling with such hostility that even one as old as Emily felt uncomfortable. She turned slightly as she saw the light level change in the bar and held up her hand to the Winchesters, motioning silently for them to stop moving and to avoid the situation. It's an odd habit Emily picked up, treating situations as if vision is based off of movement rather than light refraction. It was unlikely that Jo and Ellen would have noticed anyway, what with Jo defending whatever her position was so steadfastly and Ellen practically dismantling the bar. Emily had missed the beginning of the fight, it having started in the back of the bar but, from what she could see, something had been bubbling for days. Needless to say, Emily was just as lost as Dean was when he approached her left flank silently, standing slightly behind her as if she were shielding him from this feminine wrath. It wasn't long before Sam joined him, standing behind her as well as she stood propped against the bar between two rickety old wooden stools. Finally, the fight simmered down as Ellen yelled for Jo to go back to school if she didn't want to stay at the Roadhouse. _"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!" _Emily knew that feeling. Then again, while she had never been to school, she felt it when Dean found that grenade launcher in the back of her car. _"And dead on some dusty back road? That's where you belong?!"_ As if for the first time, Jo acknowledged the three of them and turned away, Ellen taking a quick look over her shoulder as if to assess the damage. Dean shifted awkwardly under her gaze but Emily just stood still, eyeing the two of them. Ellen, deciding to state the obvious, simply and curtly told them it was a bad time. Practically the under exaggeration of the year, that was for sure. With nothing else to do, Sam agreed and moved for the door, Dean coming up with a smart ass remark before turning as well. Emily hesitated a little longer, feeling as though, if she left, either Ellen or Jo would have their head lopped off.

Jo was quick to speak up, moving in that distinctly 'angry girl' way that is rushed, precise, and violent. Emily turned as Jo moved, intent on keeping her front to her. Not that she believed Ellen or Jo would be so brash as to attack her but, well, women do crazy things. However, it seemed the furious blond actually just wanted their opinion on something, though god knows what. It did seem to go against Emily's primal nature of self-preservation to get involved and she doubted it would solve anything. Suddenly, all the attention in the room was pulled to the opening door, a little perfect nuclear family wandering in with four matching hideous yellow shirts with something about Nevada on them. Emily blinked confusedly as they inquired about whether or not the Roadhouse was open. Both the proprietor and her daughter answered at the same time with conflicting answers in raised voices. As if they had adopted Emily's mindset, they moved slowly for the door. Almost as soon as they left, the phone began to ring, making Emily wince. It looked as though Jo was going to rip the phone off the wall and destroy the bar with it. Finally, Ellen moved to pick up the phone and Jo turned her attention to them. Jo held up a manila folder, stating it was a case regarding a woman who vanished from her apartment. When Dean hesitated with grabbing the folder, Jo egged him on, reassuring him it "won't bite." Dean quickly unloaded a comment, re-establishing his inherent fear of Ellen. Who could blame him, really? Regardless, he accept the folder and began flipping through it as Jo went on, proving herself to be one hell of a researcher. While Emily kept her eyes on Jo, listening intently, she remained firmly aware of both Ellen's and Dean's movements. Dean was impressed with Jo's skills in research and Sam simply commented that they had gone on leads that were way more flimsy than Jo's jam-packed folder. Ellen, however, was quick to re-insert herself. _"If you like the case, you take it."_ At her daughter's warning tone, Ellen did not miss a beat. _"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you too. I just won't."_ It seemed to silence Jo, but did not break Emily of her stoic silence, her face betraying none of the emotions she felt, which were few to begin with. A case was a case, it didn't matter who solved it. But Jo seemed to have taken a personal stake in this one, making it better if she wasn't involved.

Emily stood behind Sam as he jimmied the lock on the door, opening it to reveal a pristine apartment, moving in after him but going deeper into it. The brothers pulled out their EMF readers and swept the room quickly, Sam's almost immediately picking up something. Emily moved closer to him and looked at the small, metal-encased hole in the wall, a strange black substance inside of it. Emily's mind went immediately to what it was, Sam's response on confirming what she believed. "It's ectoplasm." She commented, crouched slightly to examine it. She could see through the hole a bit to the other side, amazed at what Sam had found. "Sam's right. I've only seen this so many times. For the most part though, its older, angrier spirits that create it. You know, spirits that are in almost complete control of all of their ghostly abilities but have a serious anger management issues." She stood straight and looked over her shoulder at Dean, who was eyeing her closely. She had been noticing, for the past few days, Dean had been looking at her differently. She didn't know what it was or why but she had already opted to ignore it to the best of her abilities until it went away. Or until he brought it up. When the three of them moved into the hallway, Jo appeared around the corner with the landlord, hurriedly moving to Dean's side, asserting that he was her boyfriend and Sam was his buddy. Oh, also, Emily was Sam's girlfriend. The millennia old woman had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from throttling Jo. However badly it was done, Dean and Jo pulled off the couple routine with the absent minded landlord, Jo deciding to blind him with a large wad of cash, which the man, oddly enough, didn't even count. Emily just looked up at Sam, the two of them not even bothering to make physical contact or act 'couply', and he just shook his head, a silent gesture to request she leave the matter alone.

Emily and Sam sat at one end of the table, the latter reading over the history of the town. Sam seemed intent on keeping the peace between Dean and Jo. After the phone call from Ellen where Dean blatantly lied, everyone seemed a little on edge. Finally, determining that the cause might be a cursed object, they split into teams, Dean and Jo taking the top floor. Where Sam and Emily kept mostly quiet, communicating through their thoughts, Jo and Dean nearly had an all-out fight in the hallway:

"You know, I've had it up to here with your crap. Your chauvinistic crap. You think that women can't do the job."

"Sweetheart, this isn't gender studies. Women can do the job just fine. Look at Emily: she's one of the best hunters alive. Amateurs can't. You've got no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half baked, romantic notions some barflies put in your head."

"I sense a disturbance in the force." Emily's sudden break of silence made Sam turn quickly. He had a slight smirk on his face from the reference but it vanished quickly. "I feel like we shouldn't have left those two alone. I bet they are at each other's throats by now." Sam shrugged and kept sweeping with the EMF. _"Maybe that's a good thing. The tension between them is nauseating."_ Emily laughed quietly at that and turned. "We've been up and down these hallways. I have found a damn thing. Maybe I should just dye my hair blond and pull this thing out." Sam rolled his eyes at her as he slid the meter into his pocket, nodding for them to return to the apartment, Emily moving up beside him. "Sorry honey. I don't think you could pull off the blond look." Emily elbowed him in his stomach, being too short to hit his ribs properly.

Emily hurried ahead of Sam, the lack of coffee slowing him down, and got some information from the cops surrounding the building in areas. Another girl had gone missing, making this morning just a little bit more complicated. Emily had been kept up most of the night by Jo's obsessive behaviour about the case, instantly regretting sharing the bed. More than that, she regretted having made the transformation to almost-mortal, knowing she would need sleep. Sam and Emily raced up to the apartment, seeming to burst in at the wrong moment but this information couldn't wait. With a bit more prodding on Dean and Emily's part, the two returned to the room later with more information, have swept the second missing girl's apartment and they found some pretty violent ghost activity. Sam and Jo were pouring over the information when they returned and Emily immediately sat and started looking at the pictures strewn over the table. One picture caught her eyes as Jo reached for it and she stood, moving beside the blond woman, standing just a couple inches taller. It was a prison. Right beside the empty field. How did they miss that for the entire investigation up until now? As soon as Jo got the information from Ash, Emily recognized the name immediately, having spent some time in the area back a century or so ago. Before long, they had a list and the four of them were all standing around Sam, leaning down to see the computer screen better as he scrolled through a list of executed prisoners. They had tons of names to sift through but a very short time to do so. Emily sighed quietly as Sam stopped on a name. He, like her, recognized it but she couldn't place it. She certainly had not known the individual. _"Wasn't that H. H. Holmes' real name?"_ Emily couldn't fight the smirk that donned on her face. Sam's memory was the stuff of legends.

Sam ran into Dean in the hallway, the two of them exclaiming so loudly Emily heard it in the room. She ran to the door when she heard what the source of Dean's frustration was. "Jo?!" she exclaimed, opening the door suddenly as they approached. Dean rushed in as Sam and Emily exchanged concerned looks. After an angry call from Ellen, Dean began demanding solutions, as he always did. "Look, stop for a second. I may have figured something out." Emily slowed Dean down enough so that he could focus. "Now, while Holmes had secret entrances and whatnot, the actual Castle itself was contracted out to many people so only Holmes would have the actual blueprint. Now, there's a lot of speculation about his body count but the most obvious place he would have stored victims would have been in his torture dungeon basement thing. If the girls were stashed in the walls, we would have heard them. We rushed into searching without thinking. That's why I got back so fast." Dean didn't look convinced, insisting the building had no basement. "No, true. But there's an old sewer system that runs beneath here and it hasn't been used in-" Dean cut her off quickly, the three suddenly setting off to find Jo. She understood Dean's rush but they weren't going to help Jo if they all were dead. Grabbing the blueprints, Emily located the nearest, most accessible hatch to get into the old sewers. The three of them must have looked ridiculous, wandering around town with a shovel and a metal detector but they were too preoccupied to care. With Sam's damage hand, Emily took point down the sewer, Sam following second and Dean taking up the rear. She hadn't talked about it before to either of the Winchesters but Emily generally hated tight spaces that her shoulders nearly got stuck in. While Dean and Sam were making it through fine, it made Emily nervous because she couldn't watch her back. She popped out of the tunnel first, falling ass over tea kettle onto the filthy sewer floor, rolling into a somersault to save face. She could hear struggling up ahead and moved forward, followed closely by the brothers. Emily was the first to get a shot off, blasting Holmes into a sewer opening behind him as Sam pushed the metal door open. Dean moved over to where Jo was concealed while Sam and Emily moved to Teresa's little cell. Like Dean, Emily grabbed an old piece of rebar and pried to metal handle open, Sam pulled the injured and scared victim out and holding her. Emily half listened to Dean as he filled Jo in on their intent to use her as bait. In all fairness, she was their only hope.

Emily watched as a little bit of joy washed over her, watching Holmes panic as he discovered he had been trapped. It was the most emotion Emily had felt in a few days but the thought of a plan actually working out made her happy. Normally, she wasn't so lucky to have things work out. Crawling out of the sewer was hellish, as expected, but she got out in one piece and happily watched as they filled the sewer with cement. Hopefully, it would be enough. Standing across from Dean at the mouth of the sewer, Emily suddenly looked up and caught Dean's eyes. "Shit. Didn't you say Ellen was flying up?"


	26. Usual Suspects - Crossroad Blues

Supernatural

The Other Side of the Tracks

"The Usual Suspects" – "Crossroad Blues"

Emily stepped out of the bathroom, her messy hair darkened by the water that dripped from it around her bare toes. Since Dean seemed to find her nudity unnerving, she had clad herself in purple and white pajama pants and a black tank top after her shower. "And the cop just let you go?" she asked, pulling her toothbrush from her mouth to ask the question. She looked from Dean to Sam, who simply shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "Odd. Usually they're much less understanding, in my experience." She muttered, resuming her grooming and turning back to the bathroom. _"Well, when you show someone a spirit with her throat cut; there are really only two ways to respond. Speaking of how to respond, where the hell were you?"_ Emily smiled and leaned over the sink, spitting the toothpaste in and washing her mouth out. "You know me. Cops come a-knocking and I bail. It's too much work to explain why I don't have fingerprints." She turned and leaned against the small counter in the bathroom as Sam approached with an inquisitive look on his devilishly handsome face. She raised her hand towards him, showing that her fingers did indeed lack the ridges of a normal human's hand, being instead just a flat, smooth surface, with the exception of a couple scars. Remaining silent, the younger Winchester simply nodded, seeming both impressed and surprised, and moved away towards the beds. "Did you lose your voice box, Sam?" she asked curiously, moving into the room. She saw him open his mouth to answer when her phone went off on the bedside table. "Hold that thought!" she hurriedly announced, moving over to the phone and answering. The conversation was brief but Emily seemed to get more and more excited as it continued. "Harpies?! Harpies!" she exclaimed at the end, hanging up on the caller. The room suddenly became a flutter of activity as Emily ripped clothes from her bag and yanked them on with incredible force, at one point even trying to pull some jeans over the pajama pants. _"Jesus, Em! What's going on?!" _Emily had a smile on her face that made her look crazed when she looked up to respond to Dean. "Harpies, Dean! Harpies! My favourite!" She pulled off her pajama pants and quickly pulled on some panties before her jeans right in front of the brothers, she watched as Dean's hand quickly shot up to cover his eyes as Sam just stared on in surprise and confusion. She pulled off the tank top and slipped on a white t-shirt and a black vest, quickly shoving her things into the bag. She ran to the bathroom, grabbing her essentials and combing her hair as she moved. _"Mind laying a bit more info on us, there Em. I mean, we're still looking for Dad." _Emily looked up at Sam as she flung her bag over her shoulder, moving to grab her phone. "That was an old buddy, Jeff. He called me up to let me know he found a hive of harpies in upstate New York. I'm going to meet him and take down the hive." The brothers looked overly concerned but she shrugged them off. "Look, you have my number so call me if there are any developments and I'll rush to where you are!" She trailed off as she ran towards the Impala to get supplies, intending to go in search of a vehicle to hot wire.

The door of the motel swung open almost as soon as Emily knocked, revealing a shirtless man in his mid-thirties. Emily inhaled sharply at the sight, her chocolate eyes roaming over the image of her fellow Hunter, Jeff. He was tall with broad shoulders, with a chiseled torso. His dark brown hair was longer on the top but cut down on the sides and he had a bit of rough stubble on his hard jaw. A handsome smile took over his face as his dark blue eyes met hers. _"You certainly made it here fast, Jess."_ Emily smiled, realizing that he still knew her as Jessica. She rolled her eyes as he put his arm up, blocking her from the room with a toned arm. "Well, you know I love Harpies so get the hell out of the way and let's do this." Emily slipped beneath his arm and into the one bedroom motel room, dropping her duffel on the flimsy table. _"Lady's in a rush, then."_ Jeff proceeded to put a shirt on, after Emily forced him to, and told her about the hive, which only had three members from what he had found. They were locked up in the basement of an apartment building and had begun to feed on the inhabitants. Emily looked up from the file he had created on the case, his handwriting sloppy and the information disorganized, as he handed her a beer. "Well, when are we going?" she asked curiously, taking a sip from the beer. _"Well, I was going to say we'll wait until morning but not only do I think you can't wait that long but the Harpies live in a dark environment so no chance of taking advantage of their crappy vision during the day."_ Emily nodded and stood, downing the full beer in one go and moving to her duffel bag, pulling out a bundle of piano wire, a few blades, and what seemed to be a rudimentary blow torch that wasn't much larger than her hand, constructed out of a lighter and a small tank that appeared to be compressed gas or air. _"Jesus, Jess. You sure to come prepared."_ She heard his chair slide back as he approached her from behind, his breath shuffling her hair. She turned her head slightly as his hand gently touched her upper arms and she unwillingly inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

Emily eyes shot open and she slipped away. "Jeff, I didn't come here to do this with you again." The man wasn't able to wipe the disappointment off his face before she saw it. "You called me to hunt some Harpies. Not to fall back into the same thing we did before." Jeff clearly saw that it was pointless to argue and nodded solemnly, moving to grab his stuff. She exhaled as soon as he left her vicinity and let the goose bumps rise all over her arms. Damn, it was hard to say no when he did that kind of stuff. But it had been nearly five years since she just up and left without so much as a text. She didn't think he'd still be interested in her after she had been so terrible to him. She moved back towards the items she had pulled out and armed herself. She strapped two machetes to her sides and a couples smaller blades just in case she needed to get down and dirty. She tucked the piano wire into her pocket and lifted the make shift flame thrower and watched as Jeff reappeared from the other side of the wall. He grabbed his jacket and handed her the one she hung on the back of one of the chairs without a word. She slid it on over her weapons and zipped it up, concealing everything but the death trap, MacGyver-esque flame thrower. Jeff drove an older model of the Charger and, had it not been for the dark blue colour, she would have mistaken it for the Impala in the darkness. They climbed in the car and wordlessly drove to the apartment building Jeff had been staking out. The building was enormous, created from white brick with intricate glass and metal welcoming you to the lobby in the front. She turned to look at her hunting partner, who had traded his downtrodden expression for one of joy. The joy of the hunt.

Emily breathed in and out steadily, finding herself short of breath. By three Harpies, Jeff clearly meant seven, and quite a few had gotten lucky shots in. Having been forced to discard her ruined jacket and vest, the brunette stood with Jeff behind her in a torn t-shirt and rumpled, dirty jeans. Jeff was standing less than a foot behind her slightly off to the right, the two observing their surroundings for the attacker. They had killed three of them and lit the bodies on fire while three others they had only beheaded, now they were just waiting for the last one to come out. Harpies weren't known for keeping their tempers in check. Gripping the worn handle of her last weapon, Emily looked up to the rafters and finally saw the Harpy speeding down at Jeff. Thinking quickly, Emily moved and pushed the unsuspecting Hunter out of the way, taking the full force of impact into her torso before being slammed into the concrete ground. It all seemed to happen slowly as the creature, screaming like a banshee, slammed into her. The wind from her lungs escaped so fast it burned and she felt the concrete buckle beneath her back from the force of the blow. Not one to be fazed, Emily quickly latched onto the Harpy so she couldn't escape. The creature clawed at her, putting some lovely scratches over her face as she waited for her bones to pop back into place. As she felt her final vertebrae realign, she flipped the two of them over and began to punch the Harpy mercilessly, having lost her last blade. Emily proceeded to savagely punch the creature until there was no way she could wake up before she had time to burn her, the face of the Harpy bleeding and cut and practically torn off by the impact of the blows. Emily sat on top of the body for a moment, the lingering smoke finally triggering some ancient sprinkler system that began to douse the building. Her hair, which had long since fallen out of her ponytail, began to stick to her face as Jeff gently helped her up. Her fist was now damaged and covered by a mixture of her red blood and the black blood of the Harpy. She half-heartedly wiped at the blood and moved over to her jacket and retrieved the flame thrower, quickly lighting the remaining bodies on fire, hoping that the maintenance catwalks would provide enough cover. The bodies wouldn't need long since Harpies generally go up like a piece of wood doused in lighter fluid. She turned and looked to Jeff, who was now soaked to the bone too, and moved towards him. Her eyes were half lidded as the adrenaline was wearing off. He had gather most of the discarded weapons and led her towards the exit.

The drive back to his motel room was quiet. Emily's entire body pulsed with aches from the downright battle she just had. Never before had she experienced such difficulties with Harpies. Jeff led her through the doorway and the two of them unloaded the pile of ruined clothes and broken weapons onto the table; something to deal with later. She turned and faced Jeff as he looked at her: his shirt and jeans were plastered to him, just as hers were. She slipped her hand along the hem of her t-shirt, accidentally lifting the fabric a bit to reveal her midriff. She saw it in his face, the moment that happened, and braced herself as he dove in, Jeff capturing her lips without so much as a word. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his strong hands grasped the back of her thighs, lifting her up onto a small table near the door. She wrapped her legs around him as he pulled at her shirt, pulling it over her head eagerly and tossing it onto the tile floor where it landed with a heavy slapping sound. Their mouths reconnected as Emily pulled his shirt, Jeff willingly stripping it off the rest of the way. He picked her up once more and made his way to the bed, the two of them kicking off shoes and peeling off socks in a crazed frenzy for gratification. Emily fell onto the bed as Jeff moved over her, kissing and nibbling at the column of her neck, down to her collar bone and across her chest. She couldn't stop a soft moan from escaping her lips and that alone made Jeff revert to a frenzy, as if he was barely holding himself together to go slowly. He removed his wet jeans and made quick work of hers and locked lips once more, using a free hand to navigate himself inside of her. The sex was rough and hard and 100% Jeff. Emily had never been made to see stars before Jeff. It was passionate and wild and always adrenaline fueled by the recent hunt. In a tangle of sheets and sweaty bodies over the course of nearly two hours, Emily felt true freedom once more. She didn't have to hide herself because there were no words. She didn't have to worry, because there was no danger. After being in a dry spell for nearly 3 years, it was some much needed release, for both her body and her ever-worrying mind.

Tomorrow she would go back to the Winchesters.

Tomorrow…

[[Sorry about this long delay! I'm really not fulfilling the promises I've made and I don't really have any justification! Anyways, above is a reminder that the content from here on out my not be suitable for all audiences and that reader discretion is advised. I'll do my best to get back on a regular update schedule once I figure out my real life schedule! – Ichi]]


End file.
